


Twilight Gods

by AwfulWaful, Inquestorm



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: BFA sucks so we wrote our own, Blizzard please get better writers, Canon-ish, F/F, Political Marriage, Suffering, Tags May Change, Way too many headcanons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-05-14 10:40:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 67,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19271578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwfulWaful/pseuds/AwfulWaful, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inquestorm/pseuds/Inquestorm
Summary: The Burning Legion has been defeated.  Azeroth is in ruins.  Sylvanas Windrunner and Jaina Proudmoore each prepare for a war they believe to be inevitable.  But a chance encounter offers hope... hope desperately needed, as the Old Gods are moving...A reimagining of Battle for Azeroth.ON INDEFINITE HIATUS





	1. Act I - To Lower Your Shield

**Author's Note:**

> So… let’s just say that Awfulwaful and I were Unhappy with the current state of World of Warcraft. Honestly I’m not sure we were ever particularly happy about it, but after Legion offered a tiny hint that things were improving… the bad writing, character misuse and blatant selective memory on display got too much. So we started roleplaying a different course for Battle for Azeroth, making only minor alterations to prior canon events, to see if some good could be salvaged out of the morass.
> 
> What you are about to read is the heavily edited transcript. In a lot of ways, this story is not up to the standard that either of us would wish, many of them due to the nature of the original medium. Short of starting again from scratch, it would be impossible to purge all of the oddities of the roleplay origins, so there will be moments that more attentive readers may find jarring. There are also events and characters missed out through inattention rather than decision. Nevertheless, friends showed interest when we referred to this, and I felt enough pride in what we’d done that we eventually decided to share.
> 
> Herewith a story of gods, life, death… and Azeroth finally getting some damn peace and quiet. Expect heartbreak, betrayal, fury, loss… and yes, ultimately a happy ending.
> 
> And also fucking, because hey, it’s a Sylvaina fic, and those two need SOMETHING to keep them going through the bullshit.
> 
> The only significant alteration from canon events is that Jaina’s pre-Garrosh peace overtures with the Horde were more proactive, if ultimately fruitless. We open our story at the place where it all went so terribly wrong… the Gathering...

**Act I: The Banshee and the Mage**

Sylvanas Windrunner stood on Thoradin's wall and watched as the little knot of Forsaken passed below her. Into the fields ahead.

Such a small thing. The concept of reuniting with family. Something that many had likely never imagined ever occurring. So much hatred and fear. And now, a glimmer of hope for reconciliation.

She shifted a little, eyes narrowing. They'd soon find out that it was just a glimmer, and that it would be snuffed out. She didn't know what the boy king had planned here; but even if it was just youthful idealism, she knew that there would be no reconciliation. No peace. Her own recent fight with her sisters, the way that the Forsaken had been treated ever since their emergence; this was posturing. The only thing that would come out of this was pain.

But Nathanos had pointed out that there was an opportunity here, and that her feelings were running hot after her fight with Alleria. So here she was. She would humour Wrynn, and let her people see how futile this was, and then... then she'd return to her plans for war.

Which would mean wrangling that ancient sourpuss Saurfang. A prospect she was already detesting. The bastard had actively tried to die during the Legion invasion, and the demons had seemingly completely failed to fulfil his wish, so now she had to deal with his temper and sneering.

Fucking orcs.

There was the human contingent, approaching in the field below. And Wrynn on the opposite wall.

Wait.

Was that... had he _seriously_ brought _PROUDMOORE_? Hadn't they had an agreement not to bring anyone who might wish her or her men harm? Why was that vengeful harpy here?

"Wait here," she ordered her rangers curtly, mounting her bat. She was going to have _words_ with the Alliance about this. A moment later, she was swooping through the evening sky towards Stromgarde.

***

Anduin's jaw tightened at the sight of the bat swooping over the sky. His hand began to approach his belt when another stopped him. Jaina's.

"Why would she come alone if she's coming for an attack?" She watched the bat get closer.

Anduin frowned, "What other reasons would she have?"

"I think we're about to find out."

The bat settled, perching on the edge of the wall. The Banshee Queen's red eyes glowering. "We had an agreement, _your majesty_ ," she said in the cold, silky purr that was as close to snarling as she generally got. "This was supposed to be about our people, not about conflict. Did you bring the old mutt as well?"

Anduin frowned deeply, "I have not broken the agreement. Jaina requested to be here in peace."

"Need I remind you that her bloodlust nearly destroyed Orgrimmar over the crimes of one man?" she countered. "The fact that she's not only one of the most hostile voices in your council, but also your deadliest weapon, is not lost on me."

"I am no one's weapon." Jaina stated flatly. But her voice was calmer than even she expected.

"You talk of bloodlust like it's foreign to your side. But the sins of the Horde have killed countless of mine." She approached the wall... But slightly to the side, giving the bat plenty of room so she could look out at the groups of people almost to the meeting place.

"... I just want to know. For certain. If peace really is impossible."

Jaina still smelled of the salt and deep water that she'd pulled her father's ship from. She'd sat for a week in Stormwind harbor trying to figure out what to do. Who she was.

If there was anything left besides hate in her.

Sylvanas glanced at the woman. Silent for a time. She didn't see people as... people. She hadn't for a very long time. Too many deaths, too many failures, too many losses. If she found it difficult to respect her allies, that counted double for her enemies.

But that sentiment struck a small chord.

Hadn't that been the same thought in her heart? Before that ill-fated trip with her sisters?

"Well, Warchief?" Anduin added, "Is it an impossibility?"

"Enough. That's not for us to decide right now. It's up to them." Jaina's eyes never left the distant figures. You didn't have to know her well to see how much of her own battle was riding on this one last chance. This one small hope that it would work out.

"Time will tell," Sylvanas said shortly. "Hya!" The bat dropped off the wall and flapped hard for altitude, heading back over towards her side of the gap.

Anduin glanced over as the Warchief's silhouette faded. "It's hard to believe that she was once a hero."

"She still is. To some." The mage did look up briefly to watch the retreating shape. Part of her mind convinced that the Banshee Queen had some card up her sleeve. Either first or second hand she was well aware of Sylvanas's ruthless and shrewd mind. Jaina would not trust her as far as she could throw her...

Though with the help of magic she could probably throw her all the way off of Azeroth.

That mental image almost brought a smile to her face.

See how that glare and growling does you when you're flying through the stars you miserable cold bitch.

No. Stop. Focus. Focus on what matters. They were putting gifts on the tables now...

Sylvanas set down on the other wall, returning to glowering. Jaina Proudmoore... what the hell was she doing here? Not like she was planning violence anyway. She'd just let this disaster play out and then head home. While matters festered, she could talk with people and continue planning the conquest of Stormwind.

But... what if it didn't go wrong?

Don't be ridiculous.

***

The meetings below proceeded slowly. This couldn't be rushed. Priests on both sides milled and offered their blessings to the participants. People spoke. Awkward reunions between the living and the dead.

Anduin suddenly started. "There's something happening down there."

A small group was heading for the Stromgarde walls. Among them were Forsaken.

Jaina had been watching a father and daughter reunite. She hadn't noticed until Anduin pointed it out, "... This wasn't in your plans I take it?"

Worry gripped her. Was this the Banshee's play?

"No." He was scanning the Horde lines. Then his expression tightened as one of the priests drew her hood back and hailed the confused Forsaken. "Calia... what are you doing? Oh no..."

There was a dark, angry thunderbolt streaking towards the revealed princess of Lordaeron. Sylvanas had evidently recognised the woman, and her bat was powering across the sky with murderous intent, the Banshee Queen’s bow at the ready.

"Calia... _Calia Menethil_?!"

Jaina’s once would be sister in law. A woman she thought long dead. Was she trying to retake Lordaeron? _Was this what it had all been for?_

She'd get answers from Anduin for this later. Without so much as another thought she pulled hard on her magic and teleported herself to Calia's side, raising a shield to protect her and those around them.

She was just in time to intercept the arrow that would've gone straight through Calia's heart. Sylvanas's bat came to a halt, the rider already drawing a new arrow. "So much for innocence and peace, Proudmoore," she hissed. "Is there no end to the betrayals of the living? Your 'reconciliation' is manipulating my people into defecting?"

"I had no knowledge of this!" Jaina didn't lower her shield though and hissed at Calia, "Was this your plan all along? Did Anduin know?"

She wished she could feel joy at finding out Calia was alive.

Calia looked like her life had flashed before her eyes. There was definitely murder in Sylvanas's gaze. "Now isn't the time, Jaina," Calia said urgently. "They need rescuing!"

"RESCUING?!" Sylvanas rarely raised her voice, but now she had a shriek worthy of her title of Banshee Queen. "These are not your lands, and these are not your people!"

"They came to me!" Calia cried out. "They want to get away from _you_!"

This is what it always came down to. Every time. It was either grudges or good intentions. This is why peace wouldn't last. Why it could never work.

... But... This hadn't been Sylvanas's play.

Had she had one at all?

Had she been going to see this through to whatever end?

Sylvanas Windrunner. Acting in good faith? Was that possible?

Jaina held her shield a moment longer but rounded, suddenly shoving Calia. The touch forcing enough magic into her to shock her system but not to do any lasting damage, knocking her out. As she fell Jaina opened a portal leading back to Anduin's side for Calia to slip through.

"This was _not_ the plan. This was not the agreement. If Anduin had had such designs he would have told me and I would have hidden myself rather than be out in the open."

Was she really going to do this? Give the former Ranger General a chance to shoot her dead?

This would answer her question, she supposed, if peace was possible. So she closed the portal, lowered her shield and stood straight, staring down the Banshee Queen.

Sylvanas froze up. Her arrow automatically shifting to aim at Jaina, but... it was instinct, not malice.

Was this a trick? No. The shield was down. She could let the arrow fly. Take revenge for this betrayal, use it as a rallying point for the Horde, erase one of the greatest threats to her forces. All with one arrow.

Her dark rangers were filling the sky behind her, awaiting her orders. There was chaos and screaming all around them. Humans fleeting back for Stromgarde, some Forsaken following them, others returning to Thoradin's Wall. Her instinct had been to wipe them all out, purge Calia's pestilent influence, purify her followers. But now she was stalled out. Trapped by impotent rage, with only one target available.

"Why should I believe you?" she demanded. Bowstring still taut.

Jaina stared down the tip of the black arrow. She wouldn't get her shield up fast enough a second time. Not this close. Her only chance to survive would be if Sylvanas missed.

So not much chance.

She held her palms up, a show of modest surrender, "Hope," she offered a little stiffly. "Believe that there is a chance for hope. I don't know if there is anything that I could say that you'd have any reason to believe. Put your arrow away, let the day continue on as planned... And I will be your collateral until this is over."

There was precious little chance of that. Sylvanas's soldiers were out, Alliance troopers were scrambling to respond, and there was a gryphon hurtling towards them, Anduin approaching at speed.

But Forsaken and Human had been coming together in peace. Yes, some had left immediately, or hadn’t come, but… She’d seen so many just able to talk after so long divided. It put cracks of doubt into her belief this couldn’t work. It confirmed her belief that they, the ones in charge where a large portion of the problem…

One last attempt in good faith, because this might be able to end without bloodshed. Might.

Sylvanas's gaze bored into her. "You'd offer yourself as a hostage? And what would stop you from teleporting away the moment it was convenient?"

"I don't break my word, warchief... And I'll give you something that will make sure that will not happen." Jaina grit her teeth. She'd been down this rabbit hole. She'd trusted and been burned, she'd gotten so many killed doing this... Why would she do it again? Risking something so precious to her in the same breath?

It was difficult to mesh what she thought was right and what the past had taught her.

Sylvanas finally let her bowstring relax, the arrowtip drifting down. "Deal," she said.

Then the gryphon touched down. Anduin looking tense, sword drawn, trying to assess the situation. "Jaina? What are you doing?"

Just the usual, the mage thought immediately. Cleaning up other people's messes and making her own, what did it _look_ like she was doing?

"The Warchief has agreed that the day will continue as planned to the letter of the agreement." It was so easy to slip back into the mindset of getting what needed to be done, done. It was almost a relief after her week of depressing introspection.

"I will be joining her for the rest of the day to make up for this... interruption."

"You unleashed all of your soldiers into the field, Warchief. And tried to kill a servant of the Alliance."

Sylvanas didn't raise the bow, but it definitely shifted from not-aiming at Jaina to not-aiming at Anduin. "I didn't break the agreement first, _your majesty_."

" _Anduin_ ," Jaina snapped, "Bringing Calia here was a foolish and short-sighted decision on your part that could only ever have been seen as a threat to the Horde. Now did you agree to this in good faith like you told me or did you not?"

She was hitting her breaking point if she was honest. How many times had someone not listened to her and ended up dead? And Anduin reminded her so much of the man Arthas could have been... If he died on her watch as well...

Anduin's expression tightened. "She swore that she only wanted a chance to meet the people of her father's kingdom."

"And you didn't think that the heir to the defunct throne of Lordaeron would be a threat by her mere presence?" Sylvanas said. Her voice returning to the cynical purr she favoured, control regained. "You might be young, boy, but you're not that stupid."

"This day can still continue as planned. Anduin... Please. She's already agreed to it. At the end of the day I'll return none the worse for it. Return to the wall. Keep Calia out of it." Jaina would be fine. Maybe. She hoped.

There was a long, tense pause. "I'll see you soon," Anduin said finally. A definite note in his voice. A promise.

Sylvanas held out her hand to pull Jaina onto her bat.

Jaina nodded. She was glad she was able to just take Sylvanas's hand without too much hesitation, pulling herself up onto the oversized flying rodent. Being put on top of a furry monster in the arms of a less furry but very cold monster wasn't exactly comfortable.

It was definitely strange to have the Warchief of the Horde behind her, arms wrapped around her middle in order to both control her and the flying beast below, as they rose into the air and swooped back towards the Forsaken lines. Sylvanas issuing several sharp orders to her rangers to pull back to their original positions.

"This isn't the end of it, you realise," she added coolly. "Calia will have to answer for her actions today."

It was one thing to hear Sylvanas hiss at you from a few feet away. It was another to have her in your ear. She couldn't suppress the shiver that caused, but she pushed on, intent on ignoring it.

"This doesn't have to go that far, Windrunner. I've known Calia a long time. She isn't the kind to strive for power. She's no real threat to you."

"No threat," Sylvanas said sarcastically. "Of course. That's why half of the trusted individuals that I brought to this charade are now behind Alliance walls, and why she declared intent to 'rescue' the Forsaken from me. No threat at all."

"I said no _real_ threat." She countered, the purr in her ear was starting to annoy her, "I know what she represents. But... I wouldn't be surprised if that declaration was in the heat of the moment. Calia has always been first and foremost a healer. A priest of the light who cares for her people. If she thinks she has to do something then she'll try. But she's not a ruler despite her lineage."

It should probably bother her, to talk down Calia like this. But there was so much separation now...

"Symbols matter more than people," Sylvanas said darkly. The bat touched down on the wall, and she slid off. Finally, some distance. "But I agreed to let this day continue without bloodshed, and I will."

Jaina got off the creature as well. She hadn't been surrounded by Horde soldiers in years... And never so many Forsaken. Her time with Thrall had mostly been spent in Orgrimmar...

She couldn't help wondering how many Forsaken had seen her in Lordaeron as a girl. She tried not to look too closely at their faces. Carefully she reached up and pulled the anchor off her neck, "People are at the heart of symbols. Without them the symbols are just shapes."

She held out the necklace, "I'll be getting this back from you before I leave." She said firmly.

Sylvanas took it, inspected it. Looking over the little symbol.

Oh. The anchor of Kul Tiras. She knew only a few details of the fall of Daelin Proudmoore, but... under the circumstances, that made sense as something she'd value. Calmly she pocketed the necklace. "As you wish."

Why had Jaina surrendered herself? It was a move she might have expected from Anduin, but from Proudmoore? She remembered the political explosion when she stormed out of the Kirin Tor. She thought that she'd had Jaina pegged as an implacable rage monster at this point, but... perhaps some of the old peacemaker was still in there.

She wasn't sure what to do with that.

What she knew for sure was that she couldn't kill the woman now. Not without major backlash on both sides. So... much as it galled her, she'd have to tolerate Calia's interference. For now. She'd still be sending assassins for the bitch.

Jaina felt exposed. Twitchy. A loud alarm in the back of her mind wouldn't shut up that this was a huge mistake. That she'd be dead by the end of the day at worst and at best be absolutely sure that everything was pointless and the Horde needed to be brought to heel if not outright flattened.

Would that bring her peace? Maybe. Had Garrosh's final death brought her peace? No. Nothing had. If she imagined a world where Kalimdor was wiped clean, if Lordaeron was returned to Calia...

It didn't change anything in her soul. She still felt hate. She still felt guilt. She still felt empty.

She couldn't help tucking her arms around herself as she watched each side settle, watched the chosen meeters start to return to the tables cautiously. Would one day really prove anything at all? This was starting to feel like her week of thinking. Endless back and forth from one reaction to the other.

Sylvanas watched as well. Silent. More than one deep bitterness running through her. The hypocrisy of the Alliance, the judgement of the living, the double-standard that she'd faced ever since declaring the Forsaken a free nation...

But out of all her enemies... she could at least admit that Jaina had good reason to hate the Horde.

"I'm sorry for Theramore," she said suddenly. It felt... worth saying. Here, just the two of them. She wasn't sure they'd ever been alone together.

Jaina had been watching the father and daughter again as they came together. She'd almost forgotten where she was for a moment. Stupid really. But she'd been drifting for weeks since her departure from Dalaran. The words startled her and she looked up from the field, "... Sorry?"

Had she really just heard those words from Sylvanas?

"It's no secret that Garrosh and I detested each other," the Banshee Queen said. "I know the popular view of me is that I will do whatever it takes to achieve victory... but Theramore was a senseless target and senseless aggression. I know what it's like to watch your home burn. Better than most."

Jaina looked at her, rather stunned to silence for a moment. She sighed, "When Baine's messenger warned us, he told us that there was dissension in the ranks, that Baine and others wanted no part in it. When the Horde armies appeared and drove us back to the island I thought that was a lie because there were tauren among the soldiers... But there were no Forsaken that I recall. So I'll believe that you didn't want it to happen, whatever your reasons." There was little accusation in her tone. The sentiment was surprising... But she wasn't wrong. They did have some common ground if you looked at it in a way.

Odd as that was to admit.

"Baine is a good man," Sylvanas remarked casually. Certainly he was less of a pain in her ass than Saurfang.

She leaned forward on the battlements, watching the sun setting for a moment. Feeling...reflective. Strange that it felt easier to be open with an enemy than with her supposed allies.

"I will do whatever is necessary to protect my people," she said finally. "I have done, since the beginning. Now, apparently, that means more than the Forsaken. But some lines should not be crossed."

She took in the undead woman, her skin looked oddly purple in the fading light, her red eyes practically on fire.

And something in her wondered if Sylvanas had been in her position would she have been able to save Theramore?

That was the guilt talking again.

"We can't undo what's been done. I don't think that even Garrosh's ghost coming to beg my mercy would ease my anger." She looked out over the yet again peaceful field, "But... There are men and women down on that field right now who have a chance of forgiving and moving past the scars. For their sake, if you could find a way to broker a permanent peace between the Alliance and the Horde... One that could not be so easily broken by either side. Would you?"

It was a hypothetical at best. And she wasn't sure she could trust anything out of the queen's mouth but... It was just a question. The worst she could say was 'no'.

"Of course," Sylvanas said casually.

And she believed it. She would. She'd been a warrior in life, and death had forged her into a nightmare... but she wasn't Garrosh. She desired peace. Especially after so many brutal conflicts.

She just didn't believe that there was such a way, or that there could be such a peace. Not while both the Alliance and the Horde existed.

'Liar' was Jaina’s first thought...

Was that fair? Sylvanas was here wasn't she? She'd allowed this to continue for a small price, Jaina held 'captive'.

"It's almost over." The human hummed thoughtfully as the sun continued to dip, "I..." Idiot. Keep your mouth shut. One day does not hold weight against years and years of antagonism.

"I could arrange a summit on neutral ground to try and negotiate such a peace."

Sylvanas glanced over. Gave a quiet, cynical laugh. "Perhaps the boy would follow you in that. But nobody else would. Certainly not Greymane."

"Greymane's an angry old man who can be managed." Jaina frowned, "What matters is would you show up to that summit with the same good faith you showed today?" She moved next to Sylvanas, "Because this morning I believed that this would fail immediately and there would be a battle right here on this field, but even with what occurred earlier... here we are. The day is almost done and you... didn't plan anything underhanded at all, did you?" It felt final to say it out loud.

"Of all the people to give me some shred of hope I didn't expect it to be you."

Sylvanas gave another soft chuckle. "I didn't need to. Your side nearly destroyed this little game. I still consider the Menethil girl's interference an insult."

She glanced over. "If it hadn't been for your interference, that battle would have happened. I have to admit that I'm... unsure what to think of that."

Jaina couldn't entirely blame her. Even if it irritated, "I told you the truth. I came to see if peace was possible. But that won't happen unless there are those willing to fight for it."

Hadn't she fought for it enough though? And look where that had gotten her. Father dead. Bridges burned. Theramore obliterated...

Jaina sighed and rubbed her eyes. Light, she was so tired.

"You look like death warmed up, Proudmoore," Sylvanas said dryly. "Not sleeping well?"

"You literally _are_ death warmed over, Windrunner, I don't think you have room to speak."

"On the contrary,” came the smirking response, “It makes me an expert on the matter."

Jaina blinked and then despite herself breathed out a very small laugh. It felt like it'd been years since her mouth turned upwards instead of into a frown, "... I suppose I can't argue with that. I'll be fine. But... Thank you for your concern."

Sylvanas plucked the necklace from her belt, held it out. "Would you like a ride back to your lines?"

Jaina reached out, taking it back carefully to slide back over her head, "... Will you think about it?

"I'll await your message with baited breath." Sylvanas didn't bother to hide her cynicism. There was no point. Even if Jaina didn't change her mind, even if Anduin followed through with her... Genn and Alleria would ensure that nothing would come of it.

 _Alleria._ She flinched away from _that_ open wound.

Jaina looked at her for a moment. "Then I'd like a ride back. Please." She added the last bit after a pause.

"As you wish." Sylvanas helped Jaina onto the bat, climbing up behind her. The animal arced lazily towards the Alliance lines, finally touching down on the walls of Stromgarde. Alliance soldiers with weapons drawn awaited them, Anduin watching warily, Calia by his side. Jaina could feel Sylvanas tense with dislike at this last.

Jaina decided she'd picked her words poorly. Sylvanas wasn't death warmed, she was death unreasonably cold. It was like being hugged by one of her water-elementals. Not freezing but... Uncomfortably cool in the night air.

She slid off the bat, "Thank you, Windrunner." Then she stepped back, purposefully putting herself between Sylvanas and Calia.

Sylvanas inclined her head. "You can tell your men to relax, _your majesty_ ," she called to Anduin. "They won't be dying today. Not by my hand, anyway. But this isn't over." She turned to leave. "Goodbye, Proudmoore."

Then the bat was soaring up into the night.

Anduin let out a slow sigh of relief. "Are you hurt, Jaina?"

"Not at all." She said a little stiffly, some of her anger returning, "But I want an explanation. From _both of you_." She turned towards them, frown firmly set into place.

Anduin's expression tightened again. "Calia asked to be part of this. She said that she only wanted to meet her people and that she had no interest in reclaiming the throne of Lordaeron."

"I was recognised," Calia said. "One of those poor Forsaken recognised me, and said that they wanted to rejoin their family. He's in the keep below us right now. So are others."

Jaina sighed deeply, "If you wished to negotiate the repatriation of any Forsaken revealing yourself and declaring that you were simply going to 'rescue' them was a sure fire way to ensure that bloodshed was going to be the means of doing it."

"I reacted," Calia said, bowing her head. "Perhaps poorly. But the fact that there are Forsaken so desperate to be free of Sylvanas... how terrible must it be under her rule? If she were truly a good leader to her people, why would she react with such hostility and hatred?"

"A few Forsaken do not speak for the whole, Calia, but also what would you think if your long time enemy suddenly absconded with a few of your own who might give up defensive secrets, as well as have someone who declares they're going to rip the only home you have left out from under you? And how would you feel should we apply the same logic to our own? Would you have us go and spit on Varian's grave?" She looked over her shoulder, "... She isn't Garrosh. I'm not saying I trust her. Or any of them. But she came here in good faith, acted in good faith."

Jaina turned to her adoptive nephew, "You've wanted the peace your father only humored for my sake and ultimately rejected. With Windrunner as warchief that might actually be possible now more than ever."

"You've heard Alleria," Anduin said. "She attempted to mend bridges with Sylvanas, and now she'll tell anyone who asks that she's a monster. Are you sure that a few hours by her side are enough to tell you the whole story of the Warchief?" It was a genuine question.

"No. But a few years with Thrall wasn't enough either. Neither was so long knowing your father. Alleria and Greymane will object. But this may be the last chance any of us have for this not ending in a war of total annihilation. Which would you prefer?"

Anduin was silent for a moment. "I'll summon the council," he said finally. "I must admit, although she could do with cutting back the attitude... my meeting with her yesterday seemed to go well. With the support of both you and Velen... perhaps we can overrule the naysayers."

She nodded, turning to the woman she thought was once dead, "If you want to 'rescue' your people? You'll help too. I don't know where you've been or what you've seen sense the third-war... But there's little room for anything else."

Jaina opened a portal, intent on calling it a night. She was... beyond tired.


	2. Doubts and the Doubtful

It was a couple of days before everyone could be assembled. The rebuilding after the Legion invasion was taking time... but finally everyone was all together in Stormwind. Minus Malfurion, who was... druiding somewhere. As he often was.

"...and the goblins are firmly entrenched in Silithus at this point," Alleria was concluding. "Horde forces are redeploying and the conclusion from all my scouts is that war is brewing. I'm just not sure where."

"So much for peaceful overtures," Genn growled. "Your 'Gathering' clearly meant nothing, King Wrynn."

Jaina had been sleeping incredibly poorly. Her dreams filled with nightmares... But she had made sure she was rested and focused enough for this uphill battle.

"A single meeting won't erase decades of open hostilities." Jaina said from her seat at the table. The only question was how best to turn the tide.

"Nor will years, judging by your experiences," Genn growled at her. "Whatever progress you made with Thrall was promptly erased. I'm surprised that you of all people would be supporting a negotiation."

"The orcs are irredeemable," Alleria said coldly. "Every race here has lost much to the Horde, in all its forms. They left your own father to die, Anduin."

"Sylvanas swore that there was nothing she could have done, and I believe her," Anduin said, a tinge of frost joining his tone as well.

"The fact of the matter is," Jaina cut in firmly, "Everyone can see what's on the table. War is coming. And this time... It will be to the annihilation of one side or the other... Or both. And while there are those in this room who might personally be willing to die in that fight... Would you put your people to the torch as well? Sylvanas has opened up possibly the last chance Azeroth will have for peace. If we don't take it seriously then we're dooming the world to burn based on personal grudges alone."

Genn snarled, slamming his hand on the table. "There is no future while the Horde survives!"

"Proudmoore is correct," Velen said quietly. The ancient Dranei seemed like he'd give Jaina a run for her money in the tiredness stakes, and there were questions as to whether he would simply pass leadership on to others, now that the Legion was gone. "We must bind together. Let go. Move on."

"King Greymane, please see reason. This isn't about forgiving and forgetting... This is about a future where children don't have to watch their homes and cities burn." Jaina knew he'd be difficult... but had he learned nothing?

Genn's lip curled. No. No, he hadn't. He was a stubborn old man. "If peace couldn't be achieved with your beloved Thrall in charge of those animals, it certainly can't be with that rabid murderess in the throne."

"Perhaps you are too young to really grasp what we face," Alleria said, and the chill in her voice suddenly made her seem very like her dead sister. "We blame Garrosh for Theramore, but how many followed him? Obeyed orders? Made the weapon? Betrayed trust? You threw the Horde out of Dalaran and quit the Kirin Tor when they were voted back in. You wear your father's necklace, a man murdered by orcs. You need to work out who you are, Proudmoore. Then open your eyes and see things as we do."

"The depredations of the Horde in times past were an artifact of the Legion," Velen countered. "Garrosh was moulded by that, by his bloodthirsty father."

"A man who turned to demons to slay Cenarius," Tyrande pointed out harshly. “And lest we forget, the undead were a tool of the Legion also. Sargeras may be gone, but his toys remain to threaten us. Alleria has a point.”

Jaina stood suddenly, voice icy. "Do not talk about my father, Alleria. You were not there. And speaking of not being there... How many times has the Alliance done the same? And not just to the Horde! To each other! And how many of our own were only following orders? How many stood by and let you defect from the Alliance and make decision after bad decision, Genn? How many followed Varian even in moments we knew him to be wrong? No one in this chamber is guiltless. We must try. Unlike Garrosh or Thrall, Sylvanas's top priority is her people, not a code. That gives us the chance to negotiate and reason with her and the Horde."

Anduin raised a hand, forestalling the surge of angry voices. "It's a new era," he declared firmly. "We have an opportunity, and I will not make my father's mistakes. Genn, Alleria, I'm not interested in your doomsaying. We will be prepared for war, but we will extend the hand of peace. A meeting in Dalaran will be suitably neutral ground. Does anyone have anything to say that is not declaiming the mere concept?"

Dalaran. She'd have to go back... but not to stay. Alleria was correct in a fashion. Jaina still needed to figure out who she was... still, that was no reason to dismiss her like a child. Slowly she sat again, and remained silent.

Light, she got sick of elves.

Shame she'd be dealing with a lot of them soon. Clearly she couldn't trust this to go smoothly just left to their own devices. No matter what speeches Anduin made. Genn looked furious, and Alleria not much better. Tyrande brooded in the sulky silence that only a night elf could manage, but nobody said anything.

_'I await your invitation with baited breath'._

Jaina hoped Sylvanas was ready to start breathing again.

"We need to act sooner rather than later," She said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “The Warchief will not wait forever.”

Anduin got to his feet. "I'll get that letter drafted. Jaina, I know your relationship with Dalaran is... strained, but could I ask you to request that they host this meeting?"

It left a sour taste in her mouth, but she nodded, "I'll speak with them."

Among other things, it would mean seeing Kalecgos again.

And also Vereesa. Alleria would clearly be no help, but perhaps the youngest Windrunner would have some thoughts on Sylvanas? Vereesa had lost her husband on Theramore, and had backed her when she ejected the Horde from Dalaran... but she'd seemed more griefstricken than enraged. Alleria had mentioned that the three of them had got together recently...

***

The good news was that her exile from Dalaran was self imposed, in a fashion. Jaina wasn't barred from entry.

Once the meeting was adjourned she made a portal and left for the mage-city. Stepping out onto its streets was... uncomfortable. This place had once made her feel like home... now it felt alien. Her hood up, she kept her head down, heading for the violet citadel to seek an audience in the chamber she'd led not a month earlier.

The Council of Six. They'd been hard to tolerate even when she was leading them. The only members worth a damn were Khadgar and Kalecgos, and... there were issues and history with both men. Kalecgos likely wasn't even expecting to see her for some time, and Khadgar had been a ghost since the Legion's defeat. He was of the same breed as Alleria, too focused on one bugbear and failing to acknowledge the scope of the world.

She didn't remove her hood when the guards tried to bar her way, only looked up at them from under it until there was a spark of recognition. She didn't have to say anything for them to let her through. That was something at least...

Jaina pushed into the council chamber, pulling her hood back as the door closed behind her.  
She was in luck; the council was in session. “...Jaina?" Khadgar said, bemused. "This is... unexpected."

Kalecgos was eyeing her quietly, sensing something had shifted. But the blue dragon kept his own council for now.

"I come as a representative of King Anduin Wrynn. The Alliance and the Horde are looking to have peaceful negotiations but need a neutral arena as a venue." She kept her face and tone neutral... but she did not look at Kalec. That was still a little too fresh.

Kalecgos had told Anduin that she'd return from her 'trip' more balanced and focused. He hadn't been entirely wrong.

There was a ripple of surprise in the room. "King Wrynn believes that such a meeting could take place in good faith?" one of the old mages said, surprised. Oh, they'd been eager to let the Sunreavers return... but the vote hadn't been out of any enlightened desire for peace. Just to reopen the old boys’ club and keep conflict far away. The more things changed...

"Both King Wrynn and Warchief Sylvanas are open to it," Jaina said firmly.

Khadgar glanced around the room. "I don't believe there would be any objections to such a thing. Although the Kirin Tor would handle security, of course. I for one would be keen to attend myself. The damage Sargeras caused to Azeroth was severe, and we must do all we can to repair it."

There were nods of assent. All agreed.

Well. That had been easier then she expected, "Anduin will be sending a formal invitation to the Warchief in short order. Thank you for your cooperation." She made the mistake of glancing at Kalec and averted her eyes to another face as quickly as she could.

"I'll inform the Alliance of your requirements. Good day." Jaina turned to leave. She still needed to see Vereesa.

She was heading back for the street when she realised that damned lizard was following her. "That was the last thing I expected to hear from your mouth," Kalec said wryly. "Did you deliver that message willingly?"

She sighed, stopping but not turning to look at him, "What do you want Kalec?"

"Am I not allowed to show concern for an old and... close friend?"

Her wall of ice relented. But only a little, "You are. I'm sorry." She turned towards him.... But still couldn't quite meet his eyes, "I wasn't expecting to need to come back here so soon. And yes. I delivered this willingly."

"I heard some rumours about what happened at the Gathering, but... I wasn't sure how much was true. Did you truly offer yourself as a hostage to Sylvanas?"

"I did." She crossed her arms a little defensively, "... She didn't have another play, Kalec. I kept expecting it but then that... incident happened and nothing came of it. She only reacted to what she viewed as a threat. She came in good faith."

"There's more than one way to approach something in bad faith," Kalec said softly. "Just... be on your guard, Jaina. Please?"

"I have very little left to lose anymore Kalec." She said in a quiet, dead voice. It was not a sentiment born from depression or hopelessness. It was one of conviction. Being alone on her father's flagship had left her a lot of time to think... Alleria had accused her of not knowing herself, and she wasn't entirely wrong. But no more could be learned from sitting on a ship and thinking about her life. She'd decided that when she'd asked Anduin to let her come observe the gathering. "And I have everything to gain. If these negotiations go badly... Either Sylvanas or I will not leave that chamber alive. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have another stop to make."

Kalec let her go.

He meant well. But... he was still a dragon. And although he hid it better than most... that came with a certain amount of patronising.

They had gotten along so well but... Her time alone had led her to realize that while she'd happily have been his friend she'd clung to him as a source of comfort. Not because she deeply wanted him... She'd just wanted someone. That thought still twisted her stomach. That she'd stoop to that kind of thing. It hadn't been his fault but she couldn't help the irrational feeling of being taken advantage of in her time of weakness.

Vereesa Windrunner was right where she might be expected; in the entrance hall of the Silver Covenant. Talking with some visitors about something, maybe sending them off on some errand or other. Still, she shooed them away when she spotted Jaina, approaching with a small, tired smile. "Jaina. It's been a while."

The mage nodded with a faint smile. "I'd like to talk to you. Privately?"

Vereesa gestured to follow. "Come upstairs. There's a lovely view of the sea from the balcony up there."

The elf padded off silently. She might be the youngest and least skilled of the Windrunners... but that still put her in the top ten in the world as far as stealth and archery went, and sometimes it showed in the way she moved.

Before long they were gazing out over Dalaran, and the ocean below. "What did you want to talk about?" Vereesa asked. They hadn't interacted all that much, in the grand scheme of things, but... they'd both lost much in Theramore. And Vereesa had been a solid ally to her in the Kirin Tor from the beginning. The fact that she hadn't thought twice about the request for a private discussion said much.

There was some guilt here for Jaina... But not as much as elsewhere. Vereesa's husband had died to save her because he saw her as the future of the Kirin Tor... And then she'd left.

"How are your boys?" She asked suddenly, not in awkwardness but... She'd just remembered Vereesa's children. She wasn't even sure she'd seen them before. But... she suddenly wanted to know that they were doing alright.

The youngest Windrunner tilted her head. "They are well. Argumentative. They debate philosophy and politics, and I wonder what I was talking about at their age. Nothing so serious, I'm sure."

Jaina actually smiled a little, "I suppose they take after their father in that regard." It was good to hear... But she couldn't stall for too long, "I'm sorry I left so abruptly that I didn't say goodbye... But I need your help."

Vereesa shook her head. "I understood. I half wanted to leave myself. What do you need, Jaina?"

"The Alliance and the Horde are going to be meeting in Dalaran to try and broker a lasting peace."

Vereesa paused. Processing this. "This is about Sylvanas, isn't it?" she said finally.

Jaina nodded, "This is Azeroth's last chance to find peace before all out war breaks. I need every advantage I can to bring both sides together. I don't know your sister well and Alleria hates the mere idea of peace with the Horde... You're the only person who might be able to help."

Vereesa leaned on the balcony, her expression tight. But it wasn't the condemning hatred of Alleria. This was something... more complicated. "I'm not sure I know her very well either. Not any more." She glanced over. "The three of us had a reunion. A few weeks ago. We travelled to our old home, tried to work out if we could be a family. Mostly it ended with Sylvanas and Alleria screaming at each other."

Jaina frowned, "... I'm surprised she agreed to the Gathering then."

"I honestly think there might have been violence if I hadn't played peacemaker. Reminded them that we'd all made mistakes. I broke down in tears at one point." The elf sighed softly. "I was always the peacemaker. But they never fought like this before. They're both... hurting. Deeply. And they can't see what the other has gone through."

"That can be said of many." She said, somewhat gently, "Would you help me play peacemaker again? I don't hold the affection for Sylvanas that you obviously still do."

Vereesa was quiet for a moment. Sighed. "I'm possibly the only person in the Alliance who actually wishes they could spend more time with Sylvanas. So yes, I take your point. Not that this is a responsibility that I ever wanted."

"I thought I was done trying to fight for peace at all." Jaina looked out over the ocean, "I went to that gathering expecting to watch humans and forsaken either run or fall on each other like rats... But they didn't. It put some things into sharp relief for me... So I'm going to give this one last try. And if it doesn't work..." She looked down at the gauntlet on her hand clenching her fist a moment before releasing it. Took a slow breath. "I wouldn't even be contemplating it if she hadn't apologized to me. Petty as that sounds."

"Apologised?" Vereesa asked, puzzled.

"For Theramore. None of her own took part. I don't even remember any blood elves in attendance. But she still apologized for not being able to stop what she called a senseless attack." Jaina sighed, "She said she knew what it was like to watch your home burn."

Vereesa was silent for a time. "She helped me after Theramore," she said finally. "I approached her. During Garrosh's trial. I wasn't looking for comfort or support, but... rediscovering that I did in fact still have a sister helped me a lot."

There was clearly a lot she wasn't saying there. Some... secret about her relationship with the Banshee Queen.

Jaina frowned, "... Vereesa..." She paused. No. Surely not... "Were you the one who told Anduin Garrosh's food was poisoned? Did Sylvanas poison it?"

Vereesa looked up sharply. "How did you know about that?"

She almost laughed, "Anduin used to call me 'aunty'. He might be grown now but he has a habit of telling me quite a lot of what goes on in his life." She sighed, "... I can't even be upset really. I might have had even less trust in her at the time but I did agree with Sylvanas's sentiment that he should have had a quick execution rather then a trial. Especially after he escaped."

"Sylvanas... Sylvanas didn't try to poison him." Vereesa refused to meet her gaze. "She just supplied the poison."

Jaina looked up at her, surprised. Why would she be surprised though? Really? If it had been Derek or Tandred instead of Sylvanas and her in Vereesa's place...?

She put a hand on the elf's shoulder, "I understand."

Vereesa didn't react for a moment. "She offered me a place by her side," she admitted. "Ruling the Forsaken as sisters, together again. I was so close to accepting, Jaina. I would've done it. But I couldn't leave my children."

Jaina’s heart ached for the woman. "That was the right choice... But, in confidence, I understand. Not a day goes by that I don't think about my brothers, my mother... My father."

The quel’dorei sighed softly. Glanced over. "We played a game in that reunion. Just a stupid little one, a childhood game, really. But I keep thinking about it, because... I don't know what Sylvanas's play was. It's called 'one is a lie'. Tell three statements, one is a lie, the others have to guess. But she never told which was her lie." She counted on her fingers. "Sometimes she wishes she was alive... she's proud to be warchief... and she would never betray her sisters. And I honestly don't know which is the lie. It's been driving me mad."

Jaina considered for a moment, shook her head. "I don't know." But that did make her pause and think... And wonder if Sylvanas had stuck to the rules of the game or not. They could all be lies.... Or all true. Especially if she had failed to reveal them.

"She can't be trusted,” the mage continued after a moment. “But that doesn't mean she has to be an enemy. Perhaps in time those wounds can heal. The only way we'll know is if we can get both sides of Azeroth to agree to a peace." Somehow.

The elf finally straightened. "I told you all of that in confidence, of course," she said. "But... even if Alleria won't admit it, we're a family just as split as those who went to the Gathering. If there's a chance for peace... it's worth it. And if all of that helps you understand my sister any better..." She shook her head. "I'll offer what support I can. But it'll take more than me. I think Sylvanas does care for her family on some level, but… I don’t believe it would stay her hand."

Jaina nodded, "It's going to take a lot... Is there anyone else you suggest?"

"For what? Understanding my sister? Or working for peace?"

"More to the first." She admitted, “But I won't say no to any ideas you have on the second."

"I'll let you know if I think of anything. Or anyone. But we haven't exactly spent a lot of time on either matter over the last... decade or two," Vereesa said dryly. She paused for a moment, reflecting on just how long Azeroth had been war-torn, on how much had been lost. "Don't undermine Sylvanas's position in the Horde. She'll take it as a threat. And if she loses standing, then peace will be even harder to reach."

"Thank you." She pulled away, "I need to inform Anduin that Dalaran will be hosting the summit. I'll keep you informed."

"Goodbye, Jaina."

Vereesa turned back to looking out over the sea. Seemingly wanting to be alone for a while.

It was... a strange thought. That the woman so many would cast as a monster had such a devoted sister. Vereesa wasn't weak or easily led. But she'd put serious consideration to defecting from the Alliance to be with Sylvanas.

It was a somewhat alarming thought that Vereesa was willing to swap her allegiance that easily… alarming, and puzzling.

Jaina created a portal for herself back to Stormwind. She would linger on it later, she needed to sort out the immediate future first.


	3. Solace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So who else got borderline enraged by what Blizzard pulled in 8.2 with Jaina and Thrall? I'm not surprised, I'm just... deeply disappointed.
> 
> Please, Blizzard, apart from your shameless fan baiting... this is not how trauma works.

The ensuing back and forth of messengers took nearly a week. There was evidently resistance on both sides, and Sylvanas's snark and foot dragging did little to inspire confidence. But she didn't actively reject the proposed meetings, and soon enough details were finally settled in a fashion that both sides hated. ‘A good compromise leaves everyone unhappy’ as the old saying went. Horde and Alliance alike passed through the portals into Dalaran, eyeing each other with varying levels of hatred and distrust. At least Anduin was putting on an inspirational face.

The Violet Citadel now felt too small for the first time, crowded with the leaders of each race. Jaina, at least, had been preparing, her mind and body sharp but relaxed. Her eyes sought out Vereesa among the Covenant but didn't linger. She and Anduin had spoken extensively about this. Open with common grounds. These talks would likely last days assuming they didn't fall apart...

But first thing first, a show of good faith... And an attempt to bury a small grudge rather then tackle the large ones immediately.

"Warchief Sylvanas? Permission to approach and greet an old friend?"

Deference to the Warchief rather than striding over, which might cause alarm. But her eye caught Baine's to make it clear who she was speaking of.

Sylvanas's eyes flicked between them. Gave an uncaring shrug. "We are here to talk, are we not? I can hardly object to it now."

The last week had been hell for the Banshee Queen. Ensuring that her fractious and divided Horde could form a party line. Saurfang had been the worst. She was becoming convinced that he was opposing her at every turn out of spite, not beliefs. But she was here, and she had extracted promises that some things would not be discussed. That this was no time for divisions. Plans for an assault on Teldrassil were already looking solid. When this broke down… as she was sure it would… then they could proceed with little time lost.

She watched with cold interest as Jaina approached, though, and the massive tauren raised a hand in greeting. Baine... Baine she respected in a way that Saurfang would never earn. He was like her. A practical defender of his people.

And if she lost Baine's support... well, that could lead to bad things.

"Jaina," Baine rumbled. "It has been a long time."

Jaina nodded, "It has." She stepped forward and held out her hands in offering, just as Cairne and Thrall had taught her a lifetime ago. She hadn't known Baine deeply, but Anduin’s intuition was usually good, and the friendship sparked between the two young men might yet be the best hope they had. "You look well."

Baine just gave an amused huffing sound as he returned the gesture. "Well enough." He cast a glance at Sylvanas. "We live in uncertain days," he remarked cryptically. "But I am pleased to see you again."

"As am I, Baine."

And the mage was, oddly. Baine had been in her city, fighting under Garrosh, he'd wounded Pained, his Tauren had battled her own people before the bomb fell... But she couldn't find it in her to hate him.

Even if she had to swallow a pint of distrust and anger to manage friendly rather then just civil.

While the extremes might have been different, Anduin had once had to follow his father's commands as well, and even now Baine was still young. Suppose Anduin had been in a position of needing to follow Greymane...

"Thank you, Warchief, I won't hold up our talks any longer." She removed herself to the Alliance side of the table and sat to the left of Anduin's chair, "Shall we begin?"

There was a pause, then Anduin rose to his feet. You could practically hear the stirring music preparing as he readied himself to launch into a stirring speech to unite all present in the desire for peace, truly showing himself as the king he was born to be -

"Save it, boy," Sylvanas said harshly. "I came here to dig in to the heart of the matter, not be read trite prose."

Anduin looked mildly offended at the suggestion that he had to read his speeches, but mostly he looked off balance at the interruption. Stumbling for a response.

"Let's consider this, shall we?" Sylvanas continued. "An objective analysis would lay blame at both our doors. The Horde originated as a tool of Gul'dan to conquer Draenor, and then invade Azeroth. They destroyed Stormwind, killed thousands, including the relatives of many at this table, myself included. In more recent times, we've been responsible in various ways for the destruction of Theramore, the betrayal of the Wrathgate, the sacking of Gilneas... the list goes on. We have blood on our hands."

She leaned forward, red eyes gleaming unpleasantly. "But at least we know and admit to what we are and have been. You? The Alliance imprisoned the orcs and used them as slave labour. Your own internal corruption let Arthas destroy Lordaeron with ease. Just when it seemed like there might be some kind of peace, you allowed Varian Wrynn to annihilate all chance of cooperation. You rejected the Blood Elves out of hand and now have the gall to make weak, pathetic noises about 'hoping they rejoin the Alliance'. And my people, the Forsaken? You lost your homes. We lost our _lives_ to the Scourge, and then were forced to turn around and destroy all we held dear - and you refused to have anything to do with us."

Sylvanas twirled a dagger in her hand, slammed the tip into the table. "You have an old fool who betrayed his own people and a void-tainted psychopath in your ranks. The Dwarf queen hated what her people had become so much that she defected to the Dark Iron. You even treated Jaina Proudmoore, a war hero if ever there was one, like dirt to be ignored and cast aside. You sicken me."

The Banshee Queen leaned back again, seeming to relax. "We're all monsters, your majesty. We're all guilty as sin. We all hate each other, and we all have deep wounds. Too deep."

"If you're so sure this is a hopeless cause, why are you here?" Anduin challenged, recovering a little.

"Because despite all that, I’ve come to believe that there is one person in the Alliance who can call for peace and know what they’re really asking for. And thus one person I’m willing to listen to, because I have no patience for pretty words and empty promises."

Jaina was rather... stunned.

She couldn't entirely deny anything Sylvanas had said, although her own perspective was naturally a little different. But it both shocked and... troubled her that Sylvanas did not name her sins among the others.

"The only way we can hope to proceed is with transparency. Who is it that you would listen to, Windrunner?" Jaina said aloud.

Did the Warchief consider Vereesa on their side? The youngest Windrunner was, in a fashion... But Jaina wasn't sure Vereesa would be up to leading these negotiations in that kind of role and Sylvanas would reject her if she was simply treated as a puppet.

Sylvanas's eyes bored into her. "Guess."

Jaina raised a hand, opening her mouth to reply about how Vereesa was only tangential to these proceedings and asking her to speak for the Alliance was unfair but... that look made her stop and reconsider.

"... Me? You can't mean that. The last time we met you accused me of being bloodthirsty." She was more... confused than anything.

"Who on your side actually wanted these talks? Wanted, not went along with?" Sylvanas challenged, plucking her dagger from the table and using it to point to each in turn. "Anduin the baby peacemaker? I won't insult you by claiming that you haven't known hardship, but you _are_ naive. Velen? You're an old man whose fight finished when the Legion fell. But you, Proudmoore? You faced the Scourge, you fought the Legion twice. You lost Theramore and almost everyone in it. If you of all people want to talk peace... I'll listen."

Jaina became quiet. She had expected to play mediator. Not... Spear-head. Who could have guessed she was so...

Was 'highly thought of' stretching it?

She didn't have time to second guess this. Instead leaning forwards, "Alright then. I'll be honest. I don't have many complaints about your groundwork. But as I said to the Alliance Council weeks ago, this is not about ‘forgive and forget’. We cannot ask anyone, anywhere, to simply do so on a whim and forcing the issue will kill this before it's ever begun. So I will accept any outbursts from your side with good graces as long as you can do the same. We will have to pick apart and figure out resolutions to anything currently relevant, but everything else will have to be left behind. No-one will be exempt. Is that agreed?"

Genn looked positively mutinous, but he stayed silent, as did everyone else on both sides. Sylvanas inclined her head. "Agreed."

Jaina relaxed, leaned backwards a little. "Then why don't we begin?"

The first thing was first, to put out any immediate fires. Tensions on the sea, tensions on the Forsaken borders, tensions in northern Kalimdor. They didn't need to have any hard set rules or solutions quite yet. This was a warm up period to make sure everyone was at least listening, if not talking. Jaina was not impartial. She couldn't be and said as much very clearly. She was sat next to the King of Stormwind for a reason. But she also listened intently to what the Horde had to say. It wasn't all military. It was civilians, farmers, priests of various kinds, children who were being caught in some of these frictions.

It was on both sides. And that needed to end.

***

By the end of the first day Jaina was tired, irritable from managing Genn (because Anduin was still a bit to trigger shy to do so to his father's friend), and was now facing down the next day where... Assuming things continued as they were, they would begin the thorny issue of negotiating a permanent, lasting peace. The Horde and Alliance couldn't... Join. Merge. That was something too sticky. There had to be something else.

Because Sylvanas had a point about pretty words and empty promises. They wouldn’t hold back the kind of bitterness and injury that the years had created.

Maybe she'd figure out what that solution was over a very stiff pint.

Fortunately there were several different drinking establishments on Dalaran. So it wasn't hard to avoid people. After all, it wasn't a great mystery to figure out where they'd be going. There were the classic Horde and Alliance establishments, of course, but also a couple of smaller niche locations.

She didn't even have to think about where to go. It hadn't been unheard of for her to go into the underbelly to the Cantrips and Crows. When she'd just been a member of the Kirin Tor or their leader. She went when she was looking to get away from what she was having to deal with. A small, brief retreat where she wouldn't be noticed with a small glamor and a hood.

Nobody bothered her. Cantrips and Crows didn't bother anyone so long as they paid.

But it seemed that the weary mage wasn't the only one lurking there away from attention. A night elf woman was slowly nursing a glass of wine, wrapped in a long cloak and hood. She didn't look familiar, but... something about her caught Jaina's attention. Some instinct saying that something was off.

A night elf...

Jaina couldn't put her finger on what was making her neck prickle... Unless it was a glamour? It wasn't hard to check without alerting anyone. Not that it would tell her who it was...

As though feeling the scrutiny, the elf glanced over, smiled politely. Yes. There was the unmistakable feeling of strands of magic there, although they were subtle and unfamiliar. Old kaldorei magic, no doubt. She hadn’t exactly dealt with many Highborne or their techniques.

Jaina raised her tankard, winked. When she was out like this it was easy to emulate the people of her home. Her real home. Her brothers and their friends. Many had reason to disguise themselves down here. She was hardly unique. Although she couldn't help wondering if the elf was one of the delegations she was currently hiding from.

The elf's smile widened. "Come here often?" she said jokingly, in heavily accented common.

"Not as often as I like," Jaina replied. It wasn't hard to smooth out her Rs and jump letters where appropriate for a low-born Kul Tiran woman. "Yourself, lady-elf?"

The tall woman shrugged. "First time in Dalaran. I’ve been to many places, but never here before."

Probably not a delegate. Just an ordinary traveller. But… why a glamour? "Oh aye? I've spent some time among these wizards if you'd like a tour?"

Was she really flirting? Was she tired? Exhausted really. But sleeping didn't appeal. A completely pointless distraction was a far more attractive prospect.

"That could be fun. Although it seems like there's some big to-do. Half the city blocked off for some reason." It was a pretty smile. And the amazonian aesthetic of night elf women had its own charm.

"It's something to do with trying for peace." Jaina shrugged but smiled back. The alcohol wasn't even really scratching her. The smile was enough to disarm her a little all on it's own, "What can I call you?"

"Y'rai. Y'rai Mistwalker." The elf got up, moved to sit next to Jaina. "What about you?"

"Scarlet Fisher." She smiled a little. Damn. Yep. She could definitely appreciate a woman with that kind of physicality, "The good news is that you're really only missing out on the sections set aside for the Alliance and Horde... And to be honest there's not much to see either ways." She finished her drink.

"Ah well." Y’rai shrugged. "I've always liked the path less travelled. I like your accent, where are you from?"

The mage laughed a little, "Never had an elf compliment my accent. But I suppose there’s a first time for everything... I'm Kul Tiran." She gestured at the elf's glass, "Can I get you another?"

"I wouldn't object." Y’rai treated her to another smile.

Jaina gestured to the barman and then at both of them, silently ordering another for each, handing over the silver when he brought it to them, "So, how long have you been traveling?"

"Oh, many years," Y'rai said. "Trying to avoid trouble and war. Not always successfully," she added dryly. "But always just... trying to make connections. Finding people worth talking to, souls worth touching."

Jaina chuckled, "I don't know if my soul's worth much. But I'll certainly take the compliment."

Y'rai reached out, delicately brushed a stray hair back into 'Scarlet's hood. "We're rarely a good judge of our own worth," she opined.

The archmage’s cheeks flushed faintly, the magicked brown eyes watching Y'rai, a little startled at the familiarity of the touch. Part of her wanted to immediately move away. But she resisted. It would make her look strange, so she gave a rather sheepish smile, "When you end up alone, you're the only one who can make the call. That's just how it is."

"It's true," Y’rai agreed, returning to her drink. "It's why I seek others out. No matter how bad it gets... there's always someone you can trust if you look hard enough. Hate is a powerful force. So's fear. But so's love. So... I try and spread that."

Jaina chuckled, "Commendable. But I think that might be part of the problem. You see, Kul Tirans don't 'love' gently." She gave a faint, teasing grin, letting the night elf take it how she liked.

Her counterpart smirked. "Is that so? A little fire in the deep sea, hmm?"

"My good and very purple lady, have you ever been on a ship on the ocean in all her forms? There's nothing calm about her. Even an exile can't escape that nature."

"It's true," Y’rai purred. "Storms can arise in the unlikeliest of places, and leave you scrambling for breath and balance. And even where there's calm... there's a predator waiting to snatch you up."

"It’s what shaped the Kul Tiran people... Sailors from birth. Even our 'gentlest' noble born don't grow up without learning to ride those waves inside us." Jaina tapped the edge of her glass, "I'm surprised you find it worth talking about. Not many of your kind do, I find."

"I told you, I've traveled,” Yrai hummed. “All four continents, although Northrend was not to my taste. Even to Outland, although I liked that even less. There's more to the world than just forest."

Jaina’s smile turned a little distant, "Well traveled indeed... I can't say I much liked either of them myself." She downed more of her pint, "There's more to the world then the ocean... But your roots always cling to you."

"Which is worse? To have roots that bite deep and trap us, or ones that flail in the air with nothing to call home?" Y'rai studied Jaina thoughtfully.

Jaina thought about that for a long moment, staring at her drink before she downed the rest of it. The alcohol barely touched her, but a bitterness had crept in with the question, "Roots you cut off yourself. No amount of time or reparation can make up for betrayal of your own. My kind don't forgive backstabbing bastards. Jaina Proudmoore for example."

The kaldorei considered this for a time. "There are many kinds of betrayal. The greatest betrayer in our history is now considered a hero."

"Oh? Which betrayer are you talking about?" Jaina queried.

"Illidan, of course." Y’rai gave a thin smile. "But we kaldorei have a strange relationship with the legends of our history. Perhaps a side effect of immortality, and the fact that most of them are still around."

The human woman considered that, "You're not wrong." She traced the lip of the glass, the wind taken out of her sails a bit. She'd come here originally to wallow in her moroseness and just get it out by sulking at the bar after all… so everything was going to plan, it seemed. "You asked my opinion though."

"I did." Y'rai hummed softly. "You seem troubled, Scarlet. Something you're trying to escape from, perhaps. Can this humble wanderer help somehow?"

Jaina breathed a laugh, "Whole world is troubled. But I suppose if you're interested in easing mine... We could skip the tour and go straight to yours?"

That sounded like a Tandred line. Sleeping with a random, glamored elf? That was not going to solve her problems. But damned if it wasn't fun to tease.

And it would blow off some steam.

"I might be persuaded," Y'rai said, eyes glinting. "Such forwardness. It's refreshing."

Jaina grinned triumphantly even while she blushed, "You'd love Kul Tiras then. I'm one of the quieter ones." Her grin widened, "Well, in my forwardness anyway."

A faint tinge of darker purple swelled over Y'rai's features. "Oh my," she grinned. "This is the kind of treatment I'd expect from orcs, not a human. Clearly I need to investigate further."

"Partly," Jaina admitted with a chuckle, "It's that you’ve caught me on a day where I desperately need a distraction. But I wouldn't be half so bold if you hadn't gotten touchy."

Y'rai's smile widened. "Then my cunning plan worked. It's amazing what a little touch at the right moment can do to foster trust and intimacy."

The mage laughed. This was surprisingly nice, "Damn. You've got me. I should have known not to be so trusting of a sharp-eyed woman. Now the question is what do I do now that I'm in your clutches? I'm not really one to beg mercy you know."

"My advice would be to turn the tables," the kaldorei cooed. "Take control of the situation and enforce your will on the elven siren who dared to touch you."

"There's a thought..." It wasn't hard to lean in, reaching up and running her thumb over the elf's earlobe, along the underside of the long arch as she invaded the elf's space, elbow on the bar, her voice lowering to a husky purr of her own, "Though you say that like I don't want to be touched."

The night elf tilted her head into the touch. Sensitive ears seemed to be a common elf thing. "So noted..." she hummed. Reached out a hand, drawing a finger along Jaina's chin, tilted it up. Leaned in teasingly, lips parted.

There was no hesitation. Her fingers moved into Y'rai's hair, gripping her jaw and neck lightly. She tugged the tall woman closer as Jaina moved forward, testing the waters with a firm but undemanding kiss.

The night elf responded hungrily, welcoming Jaina's tongue. She had a musky, earthy taste, with a surprising tinge of salt and sparks. Perhaps her magic at work.

The elf pulled back, licked her lips. "So... my place?" she laughed softly.

It wasn't like Jaina had never kissed an elf, but she was still surprised. It wasn't what she expected at all, and now… she wanted to see if _all_ of the woman tasted like that. "Hell, I'll have you in the alley if it's too far."

Yep, she was blushing.

Y'rai plucked a few coins out of her belt, placed them on the bar. Then she got to her feet, looking a little flushed herself, grasped Jaina’s hand and stalked out of the bar. Turned down a side alley, and ambushed the smaller woman with another hungry kiss. "Be careful what you wish for..." she breathed.

It was an aggressive, playful coupling. Jaina was a naturally aggressive partner. Or rather... That's what she'd become. And for all the bitterness and age you could read into it, honestly she enjoyed it more if she didn't hesitate to use her mouth and fingers to the fullest rather then only be gentle. For her part, Y'rai proved to be extremely talented with her tongue and more than happy to respond just as forcefully.

As they caught their breath, adjusted their clothes and checked for spies... the night elf stretched out with a pleased sigh. "I trust you're feeling a little lighter in yourself?"

Jaina was just tying her cloak back on as Y'rai spoke, tucking her hair away and pulling the hood up, "More than. I trust your horizons are a little more expanded?" Then she chuckled, dragging the tall elf down slightly by her collar to press a kiss to her cheek, river sweet kiss in comparison to the wild seas of what had preceded it. "Fair winds, Y'rai."

"And you, Scarlet." Y'rai smiled. "Just remember this the next time the world gets you down. Everyone in the world needs someone. Human or elf, living or undead. We all want someone to care for us and share our burdens with. Even if just for a moment."

She adjusted her hood, winked, and slipped out of the alley.

Jaina stared after her a moment.That seemed... appropriate. And oddly open minded even for a well traveled night-elf.

She went back to her guest quarters quietly, slipping in and disposing of her disguise, doffing her glamour and sliding into bed. Everyone needed someone? It was a sentiment she could share but... Finding that person. Being with that person... That wasn't always so easy. She didn't think of Kalec or Arthas or Tyrande or Kael... None of her previous lovers, brief or lasting brought to mind a pining need.

Who did she want with her? Who could she trust not to buckle or fall or leave her to drown?

... Nobody came to mind.

Maybe she should get a cat. A lot of historically significant mages had owned cats.

Was she really thinking of becoming a crazy cat wizard?

This was where Shamans and Druids and hell, even Warlocks had it easy. They all had spirits and demons to chatter with and talk to. Mages just... had their magic. No wonder so many old wizards turned into blinkered crackpots. Or just went mad.

Regardless. At least the day had had a pleasant ending. Maybe it was just the Kul Tiran in her, but... who didn't feel better after a good orgasm?

Maybe it would let her sleep better and be in a decent mood for talking with Anduin in the morning...

***

In the underbelly of Dalaran, a night elf woman glanced around, and slipped down an alleyway.

“There you are,” the orc girl already lurking there remarked. “You’re late.”

“Security is tight,” Y’rai pointed out. “It’s done. We’ll just have to see if the seeds take root.”

“We’ll see. Do not underestimate the Daughter of the Sea. If you were too obvious -”

“Fear not, sister. Jaina Proudmoore will play her part. It’s hardly the first time I’ve done this. Is our exit prepared?”

“Of course. Mine was the _easy_ task.”

A moment later, two human women emerged from the alleyway. The faint tang of magic behind them the only sign they left behind, quickly dissipated in the ambient arcane thrum of the great floating city.


	4. The Proposal

Jaina’s sleep was uneasy. As dawn came, she stirred with a vague sense of nightmares. Nightmares she couldn’t remember. That didn't happen often. Usually she could recall every gruesome detail.

Despite how groggy she felt there was no time to linger even if she was up incredibly early. She made sure she was dressed properly, and went out to find her nephew before the next round of negotiations would begin.

She was close enough to Anduin that he thought nothing of letting her see a rare and special sight; High King Anduin Wrynn, bleary-eyed and half-dressed when she arrived. "Morning," he said with a yawn, hunting for a shirt. "Forgive me, I had a rough night. After a long day. It felt like Sylvanas was trying to stress me out at times, I can't imagine what it was like for you..."

"You learn to handle such things with age." She said, intentionally mysterious, but immediately relented to the truth, "It was stressful but... No matter her reasons it's a good move. If this is to hold then we're going to have to be able to handle the stress... Today will be even worse."

"I'm sure. But every day, every hour that the Horde stays at the table is a small miracle. If only there was something, some... agreement that we could make with them that would stick. That would cut through all the distrust."

"It's hard to force ties that bind." She sighed, "And considering we brought this to the table.. We're the ones that are going to have to figure out something to give them that would manage it."

"I'm beginning to suspect that Sylvanas came to the Gathering because she didn't think it would achieve anything," he said with another yawn. "And she was so surprised when it did that she's sticking around out of morbid curiosity." He sighed. "You know, in the old days, when the old kingdoms had some dispute or wanted to tie themselves to each other..."

He paused. "Never mind."

She blinked, frowning, not following for a moment. Then it clicked and her eyebrows shot up, "... I really do not suggest proposing to Sylvanas Windrunner. Greymane might actually lead a rebellion at that point."

"Agreed," he said, sounding a little relieved. "I'm not sure I have the stomach to propose marriage to a walking corpse anyway."

"It would be rather amusing to see how she'd react though." Jaina hummed.

But... That got her thinking... She leaned on the wall, frowning with a hand to her mouth in thought.

Everyone needs someone. Human or elf, living or undead.

Would such a thing even work? Was there evidence beyond the cheerful opinions of a night elf traveller? There was a very strong possibility that Sylvanas would literally laugh at the idea.

"Copper for your thoughts," Anduin said, doing up his buttons.

"Well, I didn't think that I'd be having children anyway..." Jaina muttered distractedly. She wasn't really considering this was she?

Honestly and truly considering doing this?

Really?

… Well, it could work. If she threw down the gauntlet in a way only she could.

It _would_ work.

If she could approach it in the right way at least. Who knew if Sylvanas would actually humor it? What about Baine instead? Saurfang? No... It would be too easy to see that kind of union as just something Sylvanas could ignore. It had to be an alliance with the Warchief herself.

And it had to be Jaina who was the other half. She had strong ties to the head of the Alliance. She was in the unique position of the type of magic she could call on to seal the union. And really, who else would the elf theoretically accept? Sylvanas had only come here because of Jaina. Apparently.

She was still wrapping her head around that one.

"...Jaina?" Anduin said, stunned. "Are you... seriously considering this?"

"Do you have a better plan?" Jaina looked up, honestly asking. Because she really didn’t.

"This is Sylvanas Windrunner. The only reason most on both sides have accepted her is that she's still better than Garrosh. 'Bitch' is the kindest word you've ever had for her. And you're talking about marrying her?" He approached, face serious. "I don't want you to be a sacrificial lamb here. We can find another way."

"Who says anything about being a lamb?" She stood straight, "Anduin Wrynn, have you ever known me to pale in the face of anything? Do you think a marriage will turn me into a meek little thing? If anything I'm best suited for the position because I already have some ties in the Horde and I've got the strongest stomach of the lot of us. Now, I ask again, can you think of something better? Because otherwise we're going into today without a plan and both sides will rip us apart for it."

He was silent for a moment. Placed a hand on her shoulder. "Very well. I'll back you up the whole way… Thank you, Jaina."

She nodded, putting a hand over his in return.

Well.

Now... How the hell did she go about pushing that forward?

Part of her wanted to ask Vereesa but... This wasn't romantic. This was business.

Political was not exactly the wedding she'd imagined as a girl. Even with Arthas.

Assuming Sylvanas entertained the idea... there were a lot of awkward questions. Did this even have any weight to it without children? Where would she live?

Would Sylvanas demand she die first and be raised? It wasn't inconceivable. She would refuse it though. They'd have to come at this on equal footing or it wouldn't work. Not... Entirely equal. She'd have to not threaten Sylvanas's place as Warchief… But Jaina would not be turned undead for this or it would damage her standing among the Alliance.

Sylvanas was reasonable, she'd see that destroying Jaina's credibility would only work against her. This would be a delicate discussion but entirely manageable.

Maybe it would really surprise the bitch... what would Sylvanas look like in shock?

It was moments like this that made it plain that all her skill as a diplomat or political mover came from being forced to learn on the fly. Not from any natural inclination or talent.

"Perhaps we should just suggest this directly," Anduin said thoughtfully. "She hasn't hesitated to be blunt on anything herself, after all."

"I agree. Besides, she seemed to appreciate that bluntness coming froming me." Jaina sighed, shaking out of her thoughts, "It's going to cause an uproar. On both sides. Genn won't likely take this lying down... And who knows how Alleria will react. I'll need your support, Anduin."

If anything could be said for Jaina Proudmoore... She wasn't afraid to do what she thought needed doing. Sometimes that was the nicest thing she could say about herself.

"I can handle Genn," Anduin said firmly. "Alleria... we'll just have to see. But either way... you have my full support."

She was completely firm and headstrong in her decision until they'd reached the doors to the Violet Citadel.

Then the first little voice of 'what the fuck am I doing?' appeared.

At least she didn't show it when she pushed open the door and stepped in ahead of her adoptive nephew.

The delegations were there. All seemed fine, although Genn and Sylvanas seemed to be talking. Or more accurately, Genn was snarling and Sylvanas was snarking. You didn't even need to hear them to tell that. But at least they weren't literally trying to kill each other.

Sylvanas.

‘That's your future wife over there,’ the little voice said. ‘Isn't she _wonderful_?’

Well. It did kind of kill any ideas about eventually having children, wouldn't it? Not that she'd really been searching for that. A powerful mage could easily reach to live two hundred or so years... So she'd always pushed any possibility of answering that question back. She could safely be a hundred or so and only start to worry about her ability to conceive.

Though the bigger block to that would have been finding a suitable partner. With a woman it would have been... complicated. But theoretically possible, either through a donor or a very complex set of rites and spells... But with Sylvanas being a woman _and_ being dead...

Yeah... that wasn't going to happen.

It did bring to mind the image of Sylvanas fucking her which was... Was there a word for that feeling?

'Squiggy' was the first thing that came to mind, but she was fairly sure that wasn't a real word.

She stepped forward, shoving all of those thoughts out of her mind before more personal thoughts of being married to a monster could take over. Until all that remained was what she'd come here to do... Set about a proper union between their people.

She cleared her throat pointedly as she walked around to the Alliance's side of the table, "Good morning."

Sylvanas stalked away from Genn dismissively. Genn might be obsessed, but the way she treated him didn't help.

"Good morning, Proudmoore," Sylvanas said, settling into her chair on the Horde side. Relaxing like a cat. "You sound like you've had an idea."

She eyed the woman. "I ought to have or this will have been a great waste of time." She didn't sit, she stood in front of her chair, "The fact is that we've made alliances in the past. Bonds broken easily in the heat of the moment or from outside stress. Repeating that would be a grave mistake for all of us."

Outwardly she was calm, but honestly she was a little nervous. She wasn't a spymaster or actor by any stretch of the imagination... But fear and uncertainty was something she was a master at hiding now.

"And you think you have a way of solving that?" the Forsaken woman purred. Still, her interest was piqued. Her position throughout had been that that very instability made this whole thing a charade, even if she'd never said that in as many words.

Jaina kept her voice calm and clear as she spoke, "Yes. There is one type of permanent bond that is unbreakable, especially for one such as myself... For better or worse." 

Here we go.

"Sylvanas Windrunner, I ask for your hand in marriage."

There was dead silence in the room. Genn looked like he'd been stabbed in the gut. Baine stroked his chin thoughtfully.

But Sylvanas... her jaw actually dropped.

Jaina felt less like a roach under a spotlight and more like she was watching a group of cats scatter at a loud noise. It was very difficult not to laugh, nearly impossible not to smile. But she managed to make it a polite one.

"It would, of course, need to be negotiated. Terms, requirements... But it would serve the purpose we seek.. And I hope it makes it very clear to you not just my commitment to this peace but King Wrynn's, I already have his support."

"...of... of course," Sylvanas said weakly. Cleared her throat.

By her side, the seemingly ever-silent Nathanos leaned in and whispered in her ear. Sylvanas straightened, narrowed her eyes. "It's an interesting proposal, certainly. But I do have to point out that the Alliance hasn't hesitated to sell you out in the past, Proudmoore."

"Not this time," Anduin said quietly.

"If you're so dedicated to this concept, boy, then why aren't you on bended knee?" Sylvanas glanced at him.

"Because there is a balance to strike with this arrangement." Jaina continued sensibly, "The head of the Alliance marrying the leader of the Horde? There would be expectations for a complete merge or for one of you to dominate the other in leadership. This allows a degree of separation. Sudden shifts have proved fatal in the past. With this there is no threat to your seat as Warchief, none to the Sovereignty of Stormwind. That being said, I can understand why you might prefer him. He's grown up into quite a handsome young man." 

She was on the offensive now, smiling faintly, a little teasing to help soothe down everyone’s hackles and heart attacks. She glanced at Anduin in silent apology for talking about him like some irritating gran. She’d only need to pinch his cheek to complete the picture, "But this offer isn’t a way to martyr myself or throw you a pointless bone. I am the most suitable candidate in many ways."

Sylvanas pursed her lips. Abruptly rose to her feet and stalked around the table until they were face to face.

Surprisingly she didn't smell rotten. Just... earthy. There was a scent of death, but it was... fresh and subtle. "May I speak with you privately?"

The most helpful thought her brain managed for a split second was ‘Tall’.

"Of course." Jaina gestured towards the doors, "Let's say meeting adjourned for one hour."

Hopefully that would be enough time to manage this and... Probably cool off after.

Sylvanas grasped her arm and half-escorted, half-dragged her from the room before anyone else could say anything, pulling her into a side room and locking the door. "What's your game, Proudmoore?" she demanded.

This was about what she'd expected and she gave Sylvanas a flat look as she looked down at the armored glove on her upper arm. She had half a mind to scorch it off.

"I don't have one." The mage said it as firmly as she could, "I came into these negotiations knowing that nothing but the barest truth was going to give us a glint of hope in making this work. My offer is genuine."

The undead elf pulled away, stalking over to the window. Suddenly gave a short laugh. "Assuming I believe you... now I have some small idea as to how you felt when you realised I didn't have any plans at the Gathering."

Jaina rubbed her arm where it had been grabbed, "I know that it won't be easy for you to accept... But you do understand what it's like for a mage to marry, don't you? The full ceremony and rituals I mean. I'm not asking for a piece of paper and a handshake, Sylvanas." She stepped forward, "If I'm going to do this I'm going to go through with it fully. It’s the only way both sides can be sure the bond can’t just be discarded."

That meant binding rituals. That meant her magic coming into influence both for and from Sylvanas. It wouldn't give them power over each other but it would bind them together in a way that nothing short of a god could sever... And it would still leave a lasting mark on them for the rest of their days.

"I understand," she said shortly. "I knew mages in Silvermoon back... before. I even regularly spoke with Kael'thas, although it was never particularly pleasant. He was insufferable even in those days."

"... Yes, I learned eventually that he did tend to put on a rather charming face when I was around." Jaina forced herself to relax a little. Negative as the comment was, at least they were still talking.

She came to stand at Sylvanas's side, glancing out the window before giving the elf her full attention, "I... Understand that I may not be to your tastes. A willingness to listen to me does not mean you want to deal with me every day."

Was Sylvanas even to Jaina’s tastes?

The grey skin, the cold flesh, the faint aroma of the grave... all that aside, she was an attractive woman. Sleek, muscular physique, the catlike grace when she moved...

Weren't there laws against fondling the dead though?

"I wasn't exactly expecting high romance," Sylvanas said dryly. "I scared most prospects off when I was alive, and now I'm the Banshee Queen."

She still hadn't said how she felt about the idea.

"I'm not scared so easily." Jaina said firmly, "We've been blunt with each other so far. Tell me what's on your mind. Your actual thoughts on this."

"My actual thoughts?"

Sylvanas turned around. "My actual thoughts are that I've spent what feels like forever distrusting, arguing with, being looked down on by, and killing the living. Habits are hard to break." 

The younger woman didn't flinch away, staring up at Sylvanas evenly as she held out a hand, "One way or the other the wars will end, Sylvanas. You can't spend the rest of eternity doing as you have done. So here's your chance to break the habit by your own choice and not forced by circumstance."

Sylvanas didn't reply. Suddenly she couldn't meet Jaina's eye. "I... need to think about this."

She hesitated, but withdrew her hand, "... Of course. Would you like me to tell the summit we're adjourned for the day?"

Sylvanas Windrunner said nothing. Suddenly she remembered that moment after Arthas's death. Trying to work out what she was without her vengeance. What she could do, what anything meant, how close she'd come to just... abandoning everything. The forcible realisation that she did in fact care about the Forsaken, about the nation she'd created, had been... earth shattering, after a fashion.

And now... now she was suddenly faced with her first real choice as Warchief. The fight with the Legion had been reactive. She'd been a soldier. So had the more recent matters. Just... following through on what seemed logical.

But this decision here would reshape Azeroth.

After so much preparation and hatred... could she even turn back? Even now there was a fleet assembling to strike at Darnassus. This had seemed like a timewaster, a distraction for the Alliance.

But there was a glimmer here... a glimmer of an idea that maybe peace was possible.

She could be the one to end the conflict. Truly end the war that hadn't really stopped since the Dark Portal first opened.

And that was terrifying.

Jaina watched her freeze, getting lost in her own thoughts. She understood. She didn't move, didn't say anything for a long while, letting the woman think. At least until a solid twenty minutes had passed and she couldn’t stand it anymore.

"... I'm tired, Windrunner. I'm exhausted. And I'm afraid. Not of war. Of confirming that there's nothing left of me but hatred... So I suppose there is something a little selfish in this, if I'm completely truthful."

Nothing left but hatred?

Was that all Sylvanas had left?

The banshee was struck again by the similarities between the two of them.

"I can understand that fear," she said quietly.

Jaina stared up at her, a little surprised. That tone was strange coming out of this woman and it softened Jaina to her. Quietly she put a hand on Sylvanas's arm.

Sylvanas roused herself at the touch. Move and countermove. She was reading too much into this.

"I accept your proposal, Jaina Proudmoore."

The mage blinked, "You... do?"

And just like that, that aura of quiet vulnerability vanished. "Of course," Sylvanas drawled. "Why would I turn down the chance to have the most powerful mage in Azeroth at my beck and call? I won't even have you poisoned, the idea of you dealing with Undercity alive is too entertaining. As to whether this will guarantee peace... well, we'll see won't we?"

Jaina let her hand drop and her expression turned stoney again, "Then let's go back to the others and work out the details."

Sylvanas pushed the doors open, stalking out into the chamber. "I have decided to accept Lady Proudmoore's proposal," she said calmly. "Thus binding her to the Forsaken and Horde, and myself to her and the Alliance. Welcome to the house of Windrunner, Jaina."

The only noise was Genn making a disgusted sound.

"I'm glad you're feeling so positive about this. But there's much to discuss before that's official." She retook her seat next to Anduin. It was going to be difficult, writing up this nuptial contract... But they'd make it work. Probably.

Stipulations like 'if you turn me undead without my consent (consent must be given in writing to Alliance witnesses one of whom must be Anduin) your final death will be swift and merciless’.

This was going to take a while.

Sylvanas made some jokes of debatable taste about how grey would really suit Jaina. But she agreed to that stipulation without further comment.

As the morning wore on, and surprising progress was being made, Sylvanas leaned forward. "I've decided to make a gesture of good will, considering this... new development. Saurfang. I'd like you to dismantle the invasion force."

There was a ripple of shock on the Horde side of the table.

It wasn't really a surprise that there was one. But to both publicly admit to it, and instruct it to be dismantled...

Jaina looked up surprised. Despite her irritation at the sarcasm and jokes Sylvanas had made throughout the whole ordeal... She couldn't help finding the gesture... nice? She felt like being married to Sylvanas was going to be marrying into a tempest. You think you're heading north and then the next moment, surprise! West!

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of her mouth but she quelled it for a flat, controlled tone instead, "And you said you didn't do high romance, Warcheif. Now, on that note, my position as your wife... I don't entirely know what, if any, duties that usually entails. Thrall was the only Warchief I spent time with while he held the office. However I will be assuming the duties of official liaison between the Horde and Alliance. For all factions. That will require manpower from both sides... But for the purposes of this contract all it requires from you is to agree not to interfere with that station. Are we agreed?"

"It also requires you to be able to fairly represent the interests of the Horde," Sylvanas pointed out. "Can you do that? If not, then I cannot in good conscience agree to leave you to that duty."

"Yes." She said simply, with a finality which was mostly directed inwards, "I'm well aware, and I will honor that. Part of the need for man-power is to gather voices from each nation to help ensure that I am listening to everyone."

Sylvanas glanced around her side of the table.

"You have been a friend to the Tauren in the past," Baine said simply. Saurfang just grunted. Lor'themar inclined his head, although there was a sense that the Blood Elves would be more than happy to monopolise her time. Gallywix didn't look like he cared, which he wouldn't as long as the money flowed.

The empty seat where the Troll representative should be was... unfortunate.

Jaina glanced at that empty chair as well. She'd noticed it before but she hadn't expected answers, so she hadn’t asked. Perhaps they were still in mourning over Vol'jin. She couldn't blame them. She’d initially spat the same hatred as Genn when it seemed like the Horde had abandoned them… And she’d had enough self reflection remaining to feel ashamed when she discovered why Sylvanas had called the retreat. She was even willing to believe it was on the dying Vol’jin’s orders.

"I can work that out with them afterwards. For the purposes of our nuptial agreement all I need is your guarantee that you will not sabotage or interfere with my position as liaison."

"On the condition that you actually do your job... agreed," Sylvanas said. "Of course, that does leave the question of whether the Alliance are happy to do all their talking through you."

"I'll be working with King Wrynn and the rest of you as well to find suitable representatives for all." Jaina looked around her side of the table. It wasn't like this was a discussion to be had. Again, who else besides her would be in a position to take this role?

Genn abruptly stood. "My question is simple. If this is to be the future, then when will the Horde be brought to account for their crimes against my people? And when will they rescind all claim to Gilneas?"

Jaina set her quill down carefully so as not to smudge the parchment she had been hashing out their agreements on, "And what would you want, Lord Greymane? In recompence? What could actually satisfy you?"

The old worgen paused to frame a response. But Sylvanas beat him to it. "Why, to see me tortured to death for his own personal amusement," she said in a bored tone. "This is a very old tune, Greymane. Need I remind you that the decision to assault and capture Gilneas was one made by Garrosh Hellscream? What would you have had the Forsaken do, refuse to attack the isolationist fools sitting on our doorstep? The ones who, need I remind you, actively locked the door on us when we were alive? Let's not beat around the bush, old man, you have a vendetta for what I did to your son. That was war, Greymane. And he died _quickly_. A mercy that not everyone in this world gets," she added darkly.

Jaina broke in and continued with at least somewhat more understanding, "Nothing will ever soothe that hatred, Genn. Nothing will ever account for the loss you've endured at the hands of others... And at your own." She spoke from experience, "We are all making sacrifices here. We are choosing to let go the debts of past war for a hope of the future."

Genn fell silent. He could see he was on the losing end of this debate. But he didn't look happy.

Nor did Alleria.

Tyrande, though… Tyrande seemed to be slowly relaxing from her militant stance, the hostility draining into tired relief. She still had some of the old warhorse spirit she'd had when Jaina had first met her, but... her people had taken a lot of hits over the last couple of decades.

Jaina would deal with Alleria and Genn as they decided to voice their feelings. She was relieved that Tyrande seemed on their side though. The night elves were oddly inflexible about certain things and she was never sure when that would pop up.

"Alright... Moving on." Working out the preliminaries of a nuptial contract was... Tiring. It was more paperwork then she'd done in a long time. And there was quite a lot to discuss pertaining to their roles and expectations. Jaina wanted no restriction on her movement in the Horde and the Alliance. She would not be a servant and her magic would not be at Sylvanas's ‘beck and call’. But she was willing to make concessions where it would make sense for her to take on responsibility.

And they could debate more... Personal matters for the agreement in private, later.

Finally they decided to break for lunch. Clear heads and full stomachs.

The question was, who would she eat with? Or should she just avoid all of them?

Jaina needed a moment to clear her head. The two hour break would give her plenty of time to take a small walk in the fresh air before she came back to find food. She had to remain calm as she could or this would get out of hand.

That was one of the nice things about Dalaran being up in the sky. You were never short of fresh breezes. At least over the Broken Isles it wasn't freezing arctic winds.

She saw Vereesa quietly ambling along a little way off. The Dalaran observers had said almost nothing throughout, but they'd been there, and that had included Vereesa seeing her sister be proposed to.

Not that she, or Alleria come to it, had shown much outward reaction.

Jaina debated just... Turning and going the other direction but... No. She'd asked Vereesa for help. She wouldn't hide from her now.

She caught up to the elf, "Are you alright?" She wasn't sure how else to start the conversation.

Vereesa glanced up. "Are _you_ all right? That must have been... challenging to work up to."

She grimaced slightly, "It's... Not the most pleasant thing I've decided to do. I'm sorry I didn't warn you. Anduin and I only first talked about it this morning. The reasoning was solid so... I went for it."

The elf woman was silent for a moment. "I... I mean, I could tell you what I know of her past relationships?"

"That... Might be helpful?" Who knew what kind of ‘relationship’ she and Sylvanas would end up having in the end.

Vereesa shrugged. "I know there were... um... a lot of rumours about her and Nathanos. You know, her lieutenant. Back when they were alive. Likely half the reason that Kael'thas tried to have Nathanos deported. Kael definitely made a few passes at her, but I don't think she took him up on it."

"... I did wonder." She chewed her lip, "Is that... All you know?"

Vereesa sighed. "We all... took the slaughter of our family in the second war very hard. And very differently. Alleria turned into a bloodthirsty warhawk. I became detached from my homeland. And Sylvanas... Sylvanas just broke. I'm sure there were flings. Moments of passion. But I also remember a lot of alcohol when I was visiting."

The human frowned, "Does alcohol affect the undead?"

She shrugged. "I think it depends. Back in the Northrend days, I did see some of the Ebon Blade drinking regularly. Some of the better preserved Forsaken. Seemed like the more rotted they were, the less it worked."

"... I'll have to keep an eye on her." A drunk was one thing Jaina couldn't picture Sylvanas' as... But if it was true then she wouldn't stand for it.

"You don't have to accept me as family." She said quietly, moving on.

Vereesa glanced up. Smiled softly. "I know that. But I will anyway. We've always worked well together in the past, haven't we? And... you're going to have a hard enough time as it is."

Jaina gave her a small joking scowl, "Yes, because I'm very unused to having a hard time."

But then those words started to sink in and she softened. She a hand on Vereesa's shoulder, "Thank you."

Even if it was out of an odd situation and it wasn't the same... It would be the first time she'd have a family in a very long time. Anduin was dear to her but one person couldn’t be a whole family.

Vereesa placed a hand on hers. "Of course... you realise that you're not just gaining a wife and a couple of sisters-in-law," she said seriously. "You have the very important responsibility of being an aunt."

"Oh no." She hummed, "That's quite a responsibility. I might have to call it all off." Jaina smiled a little, too relieved to keep up the joke.

Vereesa sobered a little. "Alleria will come around. Turalyon will stop her from doing anything stupid, and I know that he'll support you when he hears about all of this."

Turalyon... Jaina didn't know him so much as know of him. But he seemed like a good ally. She nodded, "I look forward to meeting him in more than just passing."

Her stomach growled and Jaina glanced back the way she came, "I should find lunch. I didn't eat last night or this morning... And this evening is looking to be a marathon."

Vereesa nodded. "Good luck."


	5. 'My Wife'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a delay on this one due to various real life shenanigans. Apologies all! You shouldn't have to wait as long for Chapter 6.
> 
> Also a quick shoutout to LetTheChickensFly and Valanthe - your comments prompted some amusing art on AwfulWaful's twitter... https://twitter.com/Awfulwafulart/status/1149476454268203010

When Jaina re-entered the conference chamber to find lunch... she was confronted with the sight of the gnome and goblin delegations raring to fight, and everyone else seemingly not far behind. Only Baine and Anduin were trying to restore order.

Sylvanas was nowhere to be seen.

She had just been working up to asking Sylvanas to meet with her privately about the contract. This rather knocked all of that out of her mind.

“Gentlemen!” She tried to call over the bickering but nobody turned save Baine, who currently had his small green peer around the middle to hold him back from a direct fight. The young bull’s ears flattened and his expression was honestly apologetic.

Then Gallywix made a rather biting and vile comment about Mechatorque’s trams and the Gnome looked murderous, straining anew at Anduin’s hold on his shoulders and shouting something that sounded extremely vulgar in what little she knew of Gnomish.

"That is _ENOUGH_!" The mage shot out a hand and a wall of ice erupted between the two parties, effectively separating them, "I have seen chambers full of initiate _children_ with better self control than this room!” Her eyes and the runes around her fingers were both still glowing bright blue as she stared on either side of her wall, meeting every eye, “ _Are you finished?_ "

Baine gave her a relieved, long-suffering look. Slowly the two sides separated with muttered comments, none of which she actually much cared about as long as they kept themselves civil.

"Well, if I had doubts about your ability to handle petty squabbles before, they're thoroughly assuaged now," came a dry laugh from behind her. Sylvanas padded forward, seemingly having been drawn by the noise.

Jaina tensed at the sudden voice behind her, but forced herself to relax and stand straight. It was less than a thought to dismiss the ice-wall down the middle of the room. "And where were you, Windrunner?"

"Getting some air," the undead elf replied calmly. "Same as you, I imagine."

Jaina sighed, muttering, "... Considering what just happened I'll refrain from doing that in the future, I think." 

The mage looked around at the parties still standing about, "Well? Lunch wasn't served for you to throw it on the floor." She gestured at the few overturned plates and goblets, "Eat."

The room finally started to get back to the served meal, moving around the servers who came to clean up the mess now that the fighting was done. She made sure that they were all going to their own corners and not just lingering to pick fights again before she glanced at Sylvanas, lowering her voice, "I would like to work out some of the more... personal parts of a nuptial agreement privately. When you have the time."

Sylvanas paused. "Of course," she said after a moment. "Perhaps... a private lunch together?"

The mage looked back at the room, then raised an eyebrow at Sylvanas, "... Is it safe to leave them alone?"

"I think the terror of being frozen solid and then flayed alive by banshees will probably keep them in line after that reminder, don't you?"

"Please don't flay anyone." Jaina groaned, rubbing her eyes, "Yes. Private lunch. Sounds fine. There's a room we can use." She lead the way over to the center of the table where the serving dishes had been laid out, gathering a plate of food and the sketch contract she had been writing to take with her. They were close enough to each side that she could catch both Baine and Anduin’s eye to nod her thanks before she lead them back out of the hall again.

Sylvanas followed with her own plate. At least she didn't seem to be one of those undead who'd eat anything. "Will we have a 'no flaying' rule, then?" she said. It was impossible to tell if she was just yanking Jaina's chain.

"No flaying indiscriminately. I'd say no flaying at all but... Garrosh existed," Jaina grumbled as she led the way into a smaller meeting room, setting her papers and plate down. "I would appreciate being consulted before flaying took place."

Sylvanas settled in opposite. "I don't actually flay people. Or I haven't yet," she corrected with a small chuckle. "I don't like to make definite statements. After all, as you say, Garrosh existed."

"Oh." Jaina’s tone did not hide the fact that she hadn't doubted for a second the idea that Sylvanas had flayed people before. "Well, I guess we can leave that as a rule of thumb. I'd honestly rather not have my entire life dictated by a marriage anyway." She picked up a handful of grapes and ate the first, her hungry stomach relaxing.

"Then we're agreed on that, at least." Sylvanas leaned back, biting into an apple. "Entertaining as baiting you is, Proudmoore... I'm not interested in making you suffer from this arrangement. I'm quite willing to be reasonable."

The mage looked over Sylvanas's face searchingly before she spoke, "... I'm not interested in making you suffer either. If nothing else, it's rude." She sighed, "But I'm about to have nephews and I'd like to make sure they have a world to grow up safely in."

"Ah. Vereesa and Alleria's children." Sylvanas shifted a little, her expression thoughtful. "I haven't seen any of them since the fall of Silvermoon. Perhaps... not that surprising."

"No. But you might want to get used to it. Vereesa has already told me that my foremost responsibility is going to be as an aunt." She smiled faintly.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. If my sister wished me to interact with them... I likely already would have." Snarky Sylvanas had faded into morose Sylvanas.

"Because your positions on either side of a war had no bearing on any of you at all... And because people and their relationships never change." Jaina replied flatly, "Yes, you're quite right."

Those red eyes flashed with sudden anger. But Sylvanas suppressed it after a moment. "What did you wish to discuss?"

Jaina didn't flinch or back down at all, instead she pushed her plate away and spoke frankly. "This is a political marriage," she said bluntly, "I don't know... What your interests or current arrangements are. But I'm not interested in taking you away from..." She paused for a moment to try and find a way to phrase this diplomatically. "...any current lovers you might have."

"You'd find it hard to do so, given that I don't have any," Sylvanas said calmly. "The reverse also applies to you, of course."

The mage actually sighed in relief, "Well, it's good not to be the only one I suppose. I thought you and... Never mind."

"Nathanos is a trusted servant. Nothing more." Sylvanas sighed as well, a heavy sigh full of implied complexity. "This does lead to the question of where you will live, though."

The Kul Tiran woman paused, "... Currently in Stormwind." It wasn't wrong. But she hesitated to bring up the pain of the specifics.

"I'm not sure that you living in an Alliance city sends the right message," Sylvanas said. "Although I won't insist that you join me in Undercity. It's an... acquired taste if you're still alive, or so I'm told."

"I imagine I'll be fairly mobile for a while trying to deal with everything,” Jaina replied. “But no, I don't think staying in Stormwind will help anything. As for Undercity… I will need to go there at some point if only to find an appropriate Forsaken representative."

"Am I not appropriate enough for you?" Sylvanas said with a ghostly smirk.

"No," Jaina said flatly, "This is work. Better to have a buffer if nothing else, and just like with the other nations, I want to hear what your _people_ have to say. Not just what my wife thinks."

‘My wife’.

That was... oddly heavy and oddly final. As if she hadn't been sure about this before.

Was she blushing?

Pity's sake...

Surprisingly Sylvanas blushed ever so slightly as well. "So noted. Well... there are a few notables in Undercity beyond me and my Dark Ranger corps. The Desolate Council, for instance." She scowled slightly at that name, evidently feeling no particular love for them.

"Good... I'll be selecting them carefully but recommendations are appreciated." Jaina wanted to press on... but there was one last thing to handle and she'd better do it before her bravery gave out. "... Are you... aware of what the rites of marriage entail?"

"The rites of marriage?" Sylvanas said. "As in... the magical side of them?"

Jaina nodded, "Yes. There are three. The Rites of Ice and Fire are fairly well known publicly but... the third is a... private affair..." She was a grown woman who had had multiple partners quite happily… Yet this was somehow incredibly awkward to talk about, "I know they've been completed by undead in the past, but I have to be honest... I've never asked the details of how that works for them..."

Sylvanas paused. "...if there's been a case of one of the undead and one of the living going through the mage rites of bonding together, I've not heard of it," she said after a moment. "I'm aware of the basics. I was born in Silvermoon, after all. But... I've never exactly looked into it in any detail."

"It was a marriage between Forsaken if I recall..." Jaina sighed at her own awkwardness, "Are you able to have sex, Sylvanas?"

The Forsaken blinked, shifted again. "Yes," she said cagily. "Why do you ask?"

"Because it's part of the final rite. It's either sex or... rather intense pain. I know what I'd prefer."

Sylvanas fell silent. "Oh," she said finally.

Jaina cleared her throat, "The binding has to sink in deep. That means older magics which are... Less academic." It was one of the reasons she'd stayed away from the purely arcane workings despite her ability for all schools of power.

"I mean... so long as the idea isn't utterly repellant to you, I concur that sex is probably better than agony," Sylvanas said after a long, thoughtful pause.

"As long as you can experience orgasm then... Yes. It would be preferable. I really would not like to start my married life by hurting you." Jaina’s voice was as calm and even as she could make it.

"I'm fairly sure everything works." Sylvanas shrugged, matching her in her casual tone. "Perks of bansheedom. All the Dark Rangers that got strong enough to retake corporeal form are in remarkably good shape."

"Then we'll use that method." Jaina wasn't willing to say if it repelled her or not because that was a whole can of worms she did not want to open. Swiftly she pushed onwards. "What about you? Do you have any conditions or concerns?"

Sylvanas finished her apple, chewing slowly. "No,” she said finally. “So long as you respect me, my people and the Horde... I don't exactly plan to ask anything of you."

Jaina was more than a little surprised by that. Was Sylvanas just being courteous? "I don't want to simply... Exist in your periphery. I am not a tool to be used but if there are things I can do to help you, I want you to ask me. I cannot promise I’ll say yes to everything but if we’re going to move forward in peace then we have to be willing to rely on each other at least somewhat."

"If I do need something, then I will ask and treat you as I would any other member of my court,” Sylvanas said quietly. “But being a corpse precludes children, my home has little to offer, and I don't need my ego padded even if you were likely to do such a thing. The usual trappings of marriage, political or otherwise, are... I won't force them on you. The kind of sacrifice you're making in the name of peace isn't lost on me."

Jaina considered that for a long moment before relenting to her curiosity, "I don't know what an elf turned Forsaken would consider the 'usual trappings of marriage'."

Sylvanas pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't expect sex, you can live where you choose, and I won't even refer to you as my wife if you'd prefer I didn't."

Jaina opened her mouth, gawking like a fish before she quickly closed it and covered her reaction. Ask a stupid question…

"Lets get through the wedding and rites first and then we can sort that out?" She was absolutely blushing at this point.

Maybe she could make an ice storm large enough to freeze all of Azeroth instead of going through with this? That would count as peace right? Can’t be at war if everyone was an ice cube.

"...as you wish. I just wanted to make my position clear. You wanted to talk about our private arrangements," Sylvanas pointed out.

"Yes. I appreciate that." Jaina speared a small sausage and ate it quickly, scribbling something down on the contract as a note, brain looking for a distraction from her embarrassment, "... You know, you're becoming an aunt again as well. In a fashion."

"In a fashion?" Sylvanas queried, puzzled.

"Well, it's not biological but Anduin did grow up calling me 'aunty Jaina'. He only stopped because his father teased him when he got older, unfortunately."

Anduin might stop speaking to her for giving this to Sylvanas but it was better then continuing to think about all of… _this_.

Sylvanas gave a genuine laugh. "Oh my. I won't argue about more ammunition to tease him with." Then she shook her head, the smile fading. "This is going to be... very strange."

Jaina couldn't help but smile at that. Had she ever seen this woman laugh in a way that wasn’t mocking or cruel? Her father had been right, laughter could make even the most blighted bastard look like an angel. "We'll sort it out together. That's what married people do I think."

'My wife'.

It was easier to settle with her choice when faced with this Sylvanas. A Sylvanas that laughed, blushed, and even got a little morose and nervous. It made her seem much more real then the Sylvanas she knew from the battlefield and from tense meetings.

She was just a woman. A dead woman... But a woman.

"Supposedly so," Windrunner agreed. "A lot of married couples seem to push through horrific circumstances, against all odds. I just... never pictured myself as one of them. Even when I was alive."

"I didn't really have time or space to contemplate marriage or children for myself sense the third war..." Jaina shrugged. The memory of her and Arthas’s failed romance had long stopped being a major bruise even while the pain of his fall still lingered, "Anduin is as close to having a son as I'll ever have I suppose."

"It has been one thing after another since then," Sylvanas said with a sigh. "Although... in a way, I became a mother to all Forsaken. Their guiding light in a very dark night."

The mage was quiet for a moment before looking up and stating seriously, "I don't think I want every single forsaken calling me 'Aunty Jaina'."

"Are you sure? It wouldn't be hard to arrange," Sylvanas said, a mischievous grin flitting over her grey features.

Jaina shuddered dramatically but broke into a soft laugh, "I'd wanted to be a mother once upon a time, but never in my life did I want that many children. Thank you."

"Once... but no longer?" the elf probed gently.

That tugged the humor away from Jaina, "... As you said, you can't provide that. And I don't hold that against you."

She wouldn't have dared to bring a child into this world with no solid home and the shadow of a fourth great war on the horizon... There was an irony to the fact that by chasing off that horrible future she was forsaking having children at all. Maybe it was that Kul Tiran Nobility upbringing but… Having a child that wasn’t her spouse’s felt wrong.

But it was something Jaina could live with.

A cool hand was placed on hers. "I'm sorry," Sylvanas said softly.

Jaina stiffened, glancing down in surprise... Her expression softened at the gesture even as her jaw tightened.

Jaina really was fine, it was just a little bittersweet. It was just another thing and it wasn't even like she had lost a child. Just a possibility. Possibilities were lost every day just by walking past them in the street. This was no different to picking one route to walk to a place over another. Or picking fisherman's pie instead of a loin for lunch.

So why did she suddenly want to cry a little?

Unable to manage that sudden surge of emotion she pulled her hand away, "I'm alright. Thank you." It came out a little stiff, she couldn't look at Sylvanas.

"I wanted children once, too," the Forsaken said simply. Withdrew the hand.

Jaina was silent for a moment. The teary swelling in her chest had quickly faded, thankfully. She took a moment to just breathe and let it move past. It was just the stress of all this. The end of an era. Her own demons that she was having to set aside for this peace to work scratching at her mind…

It only took her a few seconds until she could smile lightly, "You probably would have been a terror of a mother. The kind who'd go to task for their child even if they were a spoiled little brat."

"Perhaps." Sylvanas didn't sound like she wanted to talk about it further. "I would suggest that you stay with me in Undercity to begin with, especially for the rites. It'll be the most secure location. After that... we'll see what makes the most sense."

"We'll need to do one of the rites... where I'm staying." She admitted, "But that doesn't have to be in Stormwind proper." She abandoned all hesitation before pressing on, "Places that have connections to the partners are best. What was once Theramore isn't a good idea considering the remaining chaotic magics. We can do the final rite in Undercity but either the right of fire or the rite of ice will need to be completed in a place with a stronger connection to me."

"Why not Dalaran?" Sylvanas questioned. "You spent many years here, did you not?"

"It's possible but... it would be only moderately more manageable than doing it on Theramore considering I’ve severed official ties. And I'll be honest, political marriage or no... I'd rather not tie this place to my wedding. I'd rather spend as little time here as possible actually."

Sylvanas didn't question it. "Very well. I can't pretend that the idea of visiting Stormwind appeals, barring being at the head of an invading army, but... I'll cope."

"It won't be in Stormwind." But that's all Jaina would say on the matter until contracts were signed. She scribbled down a few more things on the pages, "... That's really all I can think of for now."

"Likewise." Sylvanas got to her feet, offered a hand. "Shall we see if they're acting their age?"

The mage nodded, taking Sylvanas's hand as she stood, "At least Baine and Anduin can behave like gentlemen..."

Cool, firm hands. For a moment as she stood, they were inches apart.

Then Sylvanas pulled back, released her hand. "Baine has been an interesting ally. One that I have not always seen eye to eye with, but one that I've valued."

It caught Jaina off guard for a split second but she shook it off quickly. "They’re both good young men. I'm hoping that this bridge between the two sides will allow their friendship to re-emerge. I think they'd be a good influence on each other."

"We'll see," Sylvanas said. "Many things could change if this works."

The elf paused for a moment at the door, hand on the handle. "You were on good terms with Thrall, weren't you?"

Jaina’s expression tightened. "... Until he left us at the mercy of Garrosh." She'd told him Garrosh wasn't ready. From what she remembered many people had warned Thrall that Garrosh wasn't a good choice. He told her that with Saurfang’s son dead there was no one else suitable to take up that mantle. That Garosh was popular and just needed to hold the Horde together for a while. That Orcs would only follow another Orc.

At the time she’d just accepted it despite her reservations. Now she was pretty sure that if someone said ‘orcs will only follow orcs’ to her she’d lose her temper in a rather terrible way.

"How did you maintain that relationship with him?” Sylvanas asked quietly. “How did you find common ground despite... everything?"

“Sometimes I have no idea.” She admitted thoughtfully, "... At first we focused on what needed doing and what we had in common. It was a war for survival, after all. We forged an alliance out of desperation at first and then grew to have a kind of respect and trust. After a while we became comfortable talking about what we disagreed about too. It was just... effort, time and understanding really. It was far from perfect though... Why?"

Sylvanas shrugged, quirked a smile. "Peacemaking is... not a natural skill for me."

Jaina smiled faintly, "It was a learned skill for me as well. My suggestion? When you have that first itch or two to say something snide or witty because the other person is irritating you or you’re remembering something they did that angers you... Hold it back in favor of being calm and to the point. It does wonders to de-escalate situations."

"That doesn't sound like me at all," Sylvanas said dryly. "My last thought as Frostmourne impaled me was trying to think of something suitably defiant and cutting."

A cloud flitted over those cold, grey features, swiftly suppressed.

The mage thought about making a joke to try and coax back the dry humor rather then the morose memories but... Instead she took her own advice and put her hand on Sylvanas's arm, "Shall we?"

Sylvanas roused herself, nodded. "Let's go."

Jaina pulled her hand away and helped to push open the door back into the main hall to face the madness again.

***

It was another few days before the details of the agreements were hammered out. World-wide cease-fire, the concession of certain contentious but purely military outposts.... their nuptial agreement. Jaina was working overtime to keep all sides in check and reasonable. Not the easiest thing to do but... she managed.

Fortunately there hadn't been any big outbursts. Genn had pushed hard regarding reclaiming Gilneas and pushing the Horde border back, and the matter was far from closed, but the more militant elements on both sides had evidently decided to stay quiet and push their angles outside of the conference with their relevant leaders.

There was honestly a sense of relief as she finally signed her name onto the contract first, holding out the quill to Sylvanas. The summit was over and it had been... mostly successful. More successful than was reasonable given the circumstances. The rest... Well. It would take time. Time and a lot of hiccups probably. There was a general sense of disbelief from all concerned, as though they expected to awaken from this dream at any moment.

And there was a definite moment of held breath and stunned silence in realisation when Sylvanas printed her looping signature next to Jaina's.

There were ceremonies to complete, of course. But legally speaking, the houses of Proudmoore and Windrunner were now tied.

Jaina stared at the signatures on the binding parchment for a long moment in silence as well.

But there were things to do.

"This concludes the summit." She said with finality, turning to look around them, magicing the contract away, "Thank you all."

She turned to Sylvanas, all business, "When would be convenient to perform the rites? They should be completed over a rather smaller time period. No more than five days."

"Well, I had planned to carry out the invasion of a major Alliance city, but my schedule's been cleared and this seems fairly important, no?" Sylvanas said dryly.

Jaina had been putting up with Sylvanas's dramatics the whole time like a saint, but that wasn't going to last forever. It was all she could do at this point not to roll her eyes. Yes, we get it, you had an invasion planned and we're all so very grateful you've stayed your hand this day, Queen of Obnoxiously Loud Women.

"Let’s go then." She raised her hand to summon a portal, "Anduin. I'll stop by once this is finished, a few days at most."

Anduin squeezed her shoulder. Leaned in to whisper in her ear. "You've done an amazing thing this week."

Sylvanas held out her hand. "Lead on... Jaina."

Jaina looked up at Anduin with a small smile. Amazing? Probably. If she was an onlooker she’d be amazed they hadn’t all murdered each other by now. Mostly she was just... tired.

Her hand slipped into Sylvanas’s. Had this been happening a lot or was it just her?

It shouldn't be strange for your wife to offer you her hand.

‘My _wife_ ’.


	6. Pride and Proudmoore

The portal released them below the decks of the raised Proudmoore. It had been repaired, refitted, refurbished and resupplied. Ready for her to take it wherever it was needed. A week ago she'd been prepared for it to be to a battle. Likely many battles. Now... She was going to take it into neutral waters.

"Welcome aboard."

Sylvanas steadied herself for a moment. "...where are we?"

"The Flagship Proudmoore." She said, heading for the stairs out of the cargo-hold, into the gundeck, "I'll take us out to sea. You should stay below deck until we're away from the harbor."

The elf was quiet for a moment. "Wasn't it sunk?"

"Was." Jaina agreed, pausing before she mounted the second set of stairs up to the deck.

"And I should stay below deck because... having the Banshee Queen suddenly visible in Stormwind Harbour might not be a good thing?"

"It would very likely cause a panic, yes." She called down, "Perhaps one day it won't matter, but they don't even know what's happened, let alone had time to adjust... Give me fifteen minutes and you'll be welcome to join me topside."

"As you wish." Sylvanas ran her hands along the wood around her. Looking deep in thought.

Jaina disappeared above into the fading light. 

Under Sylvanas’s inspection the ship had a slightly... Warped feeling to it. Old, water-damaged... But fixed into working order and cleaned up. Much of the ancient ship had been obviously repaired or replaced... But you could almost taste the souls who died here.

The lingering hatred.

The ship moved unnaturally. Magic, not sails was pulling them away from the harbor. Since they seemed to be the only ones onboard, and the ship had been pulled from the depths... not particularly surprising.

It suddenly occurred to Sylvanas that she was now isolated. If Jaina decided to kill her... it would be just the two of them.

And vice-versa. Although if she murdered her wife... then she'd be stuck out at sea. 

For a while, anyway. Her Val'kyr would show up soon enough.

Her wife.

There was a thought she simply couldn't process, even now.

Her wife...

Her wife who was carrying a four mast ship around with magic like children do with toys.

Was that singing coming from above?

She padded up the stairs. Not going up on deck, just... listening.

Jaina Proudmoore, frost-wielding harpy and terror of her enemies... singing?

It lacked the accompaniment of other voices but... She'd heard human sailors sing at sea before and this was definitely one of their songs. Her voice was clear, strong and smooth.

"The anchor's on board  
and the cable's all stored  
To be rollicking Randy Dandy-O  
Soon we'll be warping her out  
through the locks,  
weigh hey, roll and go"

The sea breeze filtered through the open door to the deck and from the position of the sun and the roll of the ship they were definitely on their way out of the harbor.

She quietly sat on the stairs. Closing her eyes and listening.

She'd known on an intellectual level that Jaina was Kul Tiran, that she must know the sea, but... it was different, hearing her singing a sailor song.

How was Proudmoore feeling? Was she... happy? No, surely not. This must be just habit. Or more likely just a reaction to the freedom of the sea. Not to her current circumstances.

There was something more... natural about the mage here, no matter the case. There was a lingering stiffness to how she had been in the summit. In all their meetings really. It wasn’t surprising; the entire affair had been stressful for all.

Jaina really was seemingly reacting to the Kul Tiran in her blood. There wasn't even a hesitation as she rolled into a second song, something about terrible troll ales... And when she came to the end of that one she called out, "Windrun-! Damn... Sylvanas! Come topside!"

She emerged, squinting a little in the light. Still, despite being unused to the blazing sea sun... she pulled her hood back, steadying herself on the railing. "You have a good singing voice," she said after a moment.

Jaina was stood next to the magiced wheel rather then at the helm proper, leaning on the railing. She was.. Smiling. Or maybe she was just relaxed enough not to be frowning. The green sails above them were full, the wind fully carrying them now. Her smile faltered slightly and she looked away from Sylvanas.

"... Thank you. I think it's just compulsory for my people." Jaina came down the steps to meet her, looking both far more tired and more alive at the same time. She pointed towards the sun that was setting ahead of them, "The sky is clear and the sea's calm. With any luck we'll see a flash. Have you ever seen one?"

"A flash?" She glanced over. "I've never spent much time at sea. Forests and cities are my home."

She grinned, an actual smile, slight as it was. "I haven't seen one sense I was a girl... But I think the conditions are just right. We just have to wait for the sun to set."

The human leaned on the railing next to Sylvanas, looking out over the sea, as the wind pulled her braid off her shoulder, "To be honest I haven't sailed much in the last twenty years, except for a few instances. I bet a real Kul Tiran would call my seamanship sloppy... But I suppose when you grow up immersed in something it never really leaves you."

Sylvanas pulled the bow off of her back, ran a finger along the ornate weapon’s ridges. "For me, it was this."

Jaina looked at it curiously, "Archery? Or being a ranger general?"

She shrugged. "Both, I suppose. All three of us went into it. My mother was ranger general before me. Alleria would have taken the position if she hadn't wanted to go on the offensive rather than defend Silvermoon. Vereesa was too young to rise up in the ranks, but she'd have been in the line to be my lieutenant if it hadn't been for Rhonin."

"I have to admit I don't know much about their history except that he talked about her like she was his moon and sun... Why did that stop her?"

Sylvanas shook her head. "He came to us asking for help. Something about the dwarves. Vereesa volunteered to accompany him. Grand adventures, blossoming romance, they got married and she never really came back to Silvermoon. In truth I think she wanted to get as far away from the graves of our family as she could. But at least that kept her away from the Scourge."

The shorter woman nodded thoughtfully. After a moment of silent thought she suddenly had to stifle a laugh, trying to keep her expression as neutral as possible as she glanced slyly at Sylvanas "... Does a human fetish run in the Windrunner family? You're three for three on marrying them."

Sylvanas flushed, gave an embarrassed laugh. "I suppose we are."

Jaina chuckled, "I promise I won't tell anyone.” She looked away again, more relaxed and amused now then tired or cautious. Though ‘tired’ seemed to cling to the woman at all times.

Jaina... laughing.

It was a strangely pleasant sound to Sylvanas’s ears.

“Ah!” Jaina’s eyes were scanning the horizon, “It shouldn't be another moment, come on." She grabbed Sylvanas's arm and pulled her towards the front of the ship and pointed needlessly at the sunset, "Watch best you can without burning out your eyes, specifically towards the top of the sun."

She allowed herself to be dragged along, gazing as instructed. The glow of the orange over the mostly flat horizon was bright and a little hard on the eyes but Jaina didn't flinch, watching with her hand still on Sylvanas’s arm.

Suddenly, just as the orb was sinking below the skyline, the top of the sun seemed to turn green and a bright flash of light shot skyward before disappearing.

Sylvanas blinked, glancing over. "...was that magic?"

She was smiling softly in the rapidly darkening sky light, "... No. Just a trick of the light really. I thought it was magic when my father showed it to me as a child. When I learned what it really was I was disappointed but now... I think it's humbling. Something so beautiful and surprising and nothing more to it than just the interplay of natural elements. Some people think that it's what happens when a soul comes back from the dead, or it's a sign of poor fortunes. There’s a story that it’s what happens when the Tide Mother leaves the sea to bring rains... But as far as anyone's found it's just the way the light hits the air right in that second."

"Souls coming back from the dead, huh?" Sylvanas said with a faint smile. "I'd know a bit about that."

The elf looked over. It was a nice smile.

Was she just... trying to gear herself up for that third rite? Probably. She wasn't really looking forward to that moment. For many reasons.

But there was no denying that Jaina was... attractive. With the stress and suffering washed away by the sea.

Jaina snorted, "Well, yes, obviously." She turned the other way, looking back over the ship, "Do you sleep?"

"After a fashion. Why?"

"Because I'll be tired after the first rite is done. I'm already a bit tired if I'm honest. I was just pondering if we should rest first or rest after."

"I can watch over the ship if one of us needs to stay up," Sylvanas offered. "Not that I'm sure what I could do other than scream if something goes wrong. I'm good at screaming."

"Are you?" Jaina intoned... Then immediately pressed on, "Why don't I rest before, then you can rest after while I guide the ship to a spot it will be secure."

Sylvanas nodded. Firmly pushed Jaina’s quip out of her mind. "Go ahead. Anything I need to know?"

"... Don't set it on fire?" She hummed, "The ship's warded. I'll know if anything bad happens. Otherwise... Make yourself at home." She hesitated and then nodded, "I'll only sleep a few hours."

Sylvanas nodded. "Sleep well, then. Don't worry. Hurling fireballs isn't one of my powers."

"You've surprised in the past. I'd hate to underestimate you." Jaina called as she walked down below decks again, disappearing into the captains quarters.

Sylvanas slowly paced the ship. Feeling it, looking out over the sea. Then she took banshee form, slipping up to the crow's nest, and settled in.

There was a certain peace up here. It was nice to get away from... everything. Nathanos and his needling, Saurfang's hostility, Baine's judgemental gaze... the responsibilities she'd taken on.

This at least she could be happy about.

Over the next few hours the orange sky faded to pink, then purple... And soon it was just her and the stars. The moon was just about new, nothing more than a tiny sliver of light and there was nothing to block out the utter expanse of the sky. This was different then seeing the blanket of stars it in a forest or on a mountain. It was like she could fall into the welcoming sky if she let go of the wood under her.

It reminded her of Northrend.

At that thought she abruptly began clambering back down to the deck again, feeling a wash of acute agoraphobia.

Maybe there was a reason she liked Undercity.

There was the sound of footsteps behind her as she touched down to the deck. Jaina's hair was free from the braid and she lacked the armoring and cloak she wore before. She looked barely awake, "... Are you alright?"

Sylvanas was clinging to the mast, she realised. Forcing herself to let go she adjusted her hood. "Fine. Did I wake you up?"

Silver white hair stood start against the dark of the deck as Jaina shook her head, "No. I just... decided not to sleep long." She ran a hand through her hair to get it out of her face, "Are you alright to get started then?"

"Of course." Sylvanas cleared her throat. "Which one was first? Ice or fire?"

"Fire." She half turned, "Let's do this in the captain's quarters." She led the way down.

The bed was still turned down from where Jaina had been sleeping, her cloak and armor tossed haphazardly onto the desk against the wall.

"This won't be too bad. Fire is powerful but fleeting. It stands at the top because it's the most... 'surface' of the disciplines for lack of a better simplification.”

Sylvanas nodded, glancing around. "What do I need to do? Magic was never something I had much talent with, unless you count my... more recent powers."

"Relax. I'll take care of the magic side of things. All you need do is relax and..." She frowned briefly and then shook her head, "Take off the gloves."

The Forsaken woman glanced down, then slowly peeled them off. Flexing her long fingers. Took a slow breath. Even if she didn't need to breathe... it was still relaxing. And you still needed air to talk, after all.

"Now come here." Jaina’s command was soft. Her own hands raising, shimmers of heat and power already rising from her fingertips as she gestured for Sylvanas to stand in front of her, motioning her closer.

Sylvanas eyed her for a moment. Not moving. It took a good ten seconds for her to persuade herself to obey. To commit to this… enormous shift. To _trust_.

When was the last time she really trusted?

"Raise your hands, like this, to mirror mine." Jaina didn't comment on the hesitation, focused and serious again.

The heat coming from her fingers wasn't painful but it was intense. It was made more so by the contrast. Cold, dead flesh meeting magically charged heat. But she obeyed. Red eyes boring into Jaina.

For her part Jaina didn’t break her gaze.

The sea blue they usually were snapped suddenly into a bright, glowing, icey color in contrast with the heat. The mage took a deep breath before she moved her fingers forward and pressed their hands together, her fingers not quite as long as Sylvanas's. 

It felt like she'd just been plunged into a hot spring, her skin was heated, not just on her hands but across her body. As the heat spread and covered her Sylvanas could feel it concentrate in specific places. Almost painfully hot in a latice-work of points across her skin.

Jaina inhaled sharply, obviously feeling it as well, but her eyes never broke with Sylvanas's stare.

Sylvanas shuddered. It wasn't just heat she was feeling; as the magic that fuelled her body and kept her clinging to undeath were reacting and swirling through her, red and green light spilling from her eyes in response. Uncontrolled, without the discipline or raw power of Jaina's magic, but... it was there.

Jaina's fingers laced with hers, gripping her hands lightly. Was this part of the ritual as well? It felt like something was both tugging at Sylvanas’s magic, at her actual soul, but also feeding into it.

It was as though the door to her soul had been knocked on and in return something in her had turned the lock open.

Then all at once the feeling faded. The heat receded, the magic relaxed... But the floor below them had been scorched with a complex magic circle. The ship around the creaked slightly as the pressure in the room eased away.

Sylvanas stumbled a little. Still holding onto Jaina's hands. "Well... that was... different... are you alright? Did I get any... um... death on you?"

Jaina looked a little dazed, her breathing was a bit unsteady. She didn’t think to let go of Sylvanas's either as she nodded, "The... influence is only going to deepen and then grow over time. That's just... That's just the nature of the beast." SHe finally managed to focus, "How are you feeling?"

"...warm." She let go with one of her hands, reaching out to touch Jaina's cheek. "Do I feel warm?" She hadn’t been warm in… a long time. It was surprising how pleasant it was.

Jaina's cheek wasn't so warm in comparison, though she was still warmer.

She'd definitely just leaned into the touch with a nod that was almost a nuzzle. No hesitation in her bleary state when she mumbled in response, "Warm."

Just as quickly Jaina stiffened and straightened up, pulling her hand away. The spell broken as she pressed on in the most dignified way that she could, "Well... that was the rite of fire. Ice will have to wait until we're in the Undercity."

Jaina’s cheeks were dusted with pink but her expression was as much business as she could muster, "Somewhere where you spend the most time or have the most memories would be best."

"Fire for the mage, ice for the partner, and... passion for both?" Sylvanas guessed. Pulling away as well. Quelling her own body’s treacherous urge to blush in response.

"Not exactly. Fire for the body, Ice for the mind, arcane for the soul is probably the most accurate summation but this is old magic. It’s not ever so exact as more modern complex forms. It’s more about binding the two of us together. It's a shared experience all about creating pathways between our metaphysicalities. By the end of this, if I feel something strongly enough you'll know it. Same for me. We'll always know the direction of the other... And our magics will have effects on each other. I have heard that separation is very uncomfortable afterwards. Even if just for a few days."

"Well... good thing our next stop was always going to be Undercity for a while." Sylvanas steadied herself as a wave shifted the ship a little. "Perhaps I underestimated the level of connection we were going to experience."

"I did ask you if you knew what it meant." Jaina’s tone held a hint of warning, "It's too late to back out now."

Sylvanas gave her a look. "I didn't say I was having second thoughts. Are you?"

The mage’s tone was flat and firm, zero hesitation or room for doubt, "No."

Despite the wave and the rocking of the ship, Jaina had yet to stumble or shift. She barely acted like it was there at all.

"You should rest." Jaina finally broke the eye contact that they hadn’t been able to shake sense the ritual began and turned towards the door.

Sylvanas eyed Jaina’s back for a moment. "...all right," she said. "Are you taking us north to Lordaeron, then?"

The silver-haired mage nodded, "Near to it."

"Very well. ...good night, Jaina." Sylvanas paused. "...where should I sleep?"

That messed up bed was dangerously inviting. But it was Jaina's. She wasn't going to assume.

Jaina paused, "... We'll be sharing a bed eventually, but I can let you into one of the guest quarters if that appeals?"

Sylvanas glanced back at the bed. "If you're willing to let me use this one, I'll just stay here."

She hated how meek she sounded. But she'd hate herself even more if she got pushy or forceful.

Why, though? Why with this one particular woman? She'd killed and ordered the deaths of thousands. She'd used the Blight repeatedly and without hesitation. She used the Val'kyr to harvest graveyards and battlefields for more troops and recruits for the Forsaken. Not once had she hesitated, or had a single second thought. Not once had she had any regrets.

So why with Jaina was she walking on tiptoe, scared to assert herself? And why now? What had changed? This marriage was just… politics. There was no real affection here for either of them.

Right?

The tension eased out of Jaina’s shoulders just a little and she glanced over with a faint smile, "Go ahead, it's very comfortable. Though I'd appreciate if you take the pauldrons off at least... I'd rather not be patching holes in it so soon after I got it." She gave a small incline of her head as she turned back and pulled the door shut quietly behind her.

There were no answers to be had here. Or, likely, anywhere.

Sylvanas just scowled quietly as she squirmed out of her armour. Dumped the lot of it. Suddenly just wanting to be comfortable. Naked, she slid under the covers, curled up.

It smelled faintly of Jaina.

It was nice.

She closed her eyes.

It was the kind of smell that belonged to a creature far older than Jaina was in reality. Sharp senses let her pick out the little things beyond just the scent of a living person. A touch of salt, a hint of the arcane, shades of old paper and hemp...

It was still a little warm from where she had been sleeping earlier too, adding to the magiced warmth slow to leave Sylvanas’s body.

Being dead meant dreamless sleeps usually, with rare exception. But that was not the night she had. Flashes of... something filled her mind. Backs turned against her. No one would listen to her... And then there were those on her side who kept urging her on. Who kept telling her she was chosen in some way. That she had to do this and that...

All of it slipping between her fingers like sand.

Like the ashes of the dead.

She slowly roused herself from sleep. Perhaps torpor was a better term for what the undead did, but this... this felt like the closest she'd had to sleep since she'd died.

This magical exchange was already proving to be strange.

How long had she been out for?

It was still dark from what she could see out the rear window, except that she could tell from the very faint glow left on the horizon that it was earlier in the night then when she’d gotten to sleep. She must have slept a whole day away. The sky's yawning expense was smothered comfortingly by grey clouds, barely spitting rain pattering down on the Proudmoore and the softly rolling sea.

And she could hear a very different kind of song being sung above decks.

Sylvanas slid out of bed, got to work buckling her armour on. Headed up to the deck, listening.

It was mournful to say the least.

"And buried deep beneath the waves,  
Betrayed by family  
To his nation, with his last breath cried:  
'Beware the daughter of the sea'."

Unlike the singing she’d caught from the other day Jaina’s voice was softer, not putting much effort into it. Like some kind of ritual or duty then anything joyful or relaxing.

Sylvanas listened. Frowning slightly. Then she clambered up to the deck itself, moving over towards the singer. Not saying anything.

Jaina stood at the front, rather damp from the rain but she didn't seem to care much. She didn't hear Sylvanas behind her, utterly lost in her thoughts it seemed. In her palm was the anchor of Kul Tiras and she was studying it like it might reveal some hidden truth, one hand against the mast to steady herself.

"I heard, I heard,  
Across a moonlit sea  
The old voice warning me;  
'Beware, beware,  
The daughter of the sea.'  
Beware... Beware of..."

The song’s words were almost just mutters at this point rather than actually singing and at that point she completely gave up on it. Jaina sighed, resting her head against the mast, "Am I making the same mistake again, father?"

"You didn't marry Thrall," Sylvanas said, breaking her silence.

Jaina jumped, clutching the pendant to her chest. As she rounded, free hand raising with crackling cold energy she had the snarl Sylvanas had seen more than a few times in battle…

But almost immediately Jaina stopped and dropped it with a shaky sigh, magic dissipating quickly, "Sylvanas. You scared me. How are you feeling?"

"All right, I suppose. I don't normally sleep for that long. Or dream."

"The dead don't dream?" She slipped the pendant over the neck again, "I'm not surprised you were out for so long. The rites aren't easy and you... Well, you're more tied into your magic then even I am." Jaina looked her over, "I didn't want to rouse you when I could feel the rites still settling... What did you dream about?"

She leaned against the mast. "...glimpses of what it's like to be you, I think. Confusing alternations between everyone telling you that you're wrong, and people telling you that you're special and have a destiny."

"... Oh." Jaina looked up, a little unsettled by that. She swallowed after a moment, looking down and trying to school herself back, "To be clear... Thrall and I were never together. That was never our relationship." 

She'd apparently decided she'd rather talk about this then... any of that.

"I didn't think you were," Sylvanas said casually. "There were a lot of rumours and speculation. Crude jokes. But the Thrall I knew was... well, not that type of man. Honestly I found him disappointing."

Jaina leaned back on the mast next to her, "He was the definition of 'Good Intentions'... He made me think we would really manage it... For a while."

"For all that it's called the Horde and was started by Orcs... I don't think the Horde could ever find peace with an Orc in charge as it is," Sylvanas said. "Thrall could only make alliances with a common enemy. Garrosh was a bloodcrazed monster. Saurfang is an argumentative idiot who craves warfare but only on his terms."

"I don't really know Saurfang but in passing. He seemed honorable..." Jaina looked up at her curiously, waiting for correction.

"And yet who were the only two to stand up against Garrosh during his reign? Cairne and myself. No orc raised a hand to him. Including Saurfang, despite his promises and rumblings. Not until Thrall returned." She shook her head. "He talks a big game. Mostly he's a bitter old man who wishes he was dead but can't find a fight that will end him."

Jaina groaned, "Oh good. That's exactly what we need to be dealing with..." She rubbed her eyes, "Maybe he and Genn will do us both a favor-" she paused, "... Sorry. That's too far."

"Is it? I'm half expecting to hear the news of worgen assaulting my lines somewhere even with everything signed. Honestly it's a good idea, I'll send Saurfang to deal with it. He'd enjoy the challenge and the chance to be self righteous."

Jaina seemed less angry then long-suffering, "And what happens when Genn tries to drag Anduin into it? And Saurfang does the same to Baine? It's a good thing I’m already silver because I'd be turning grey just thinking about it..."

"And now you get to deal with all the complaints of both sides," Sylvanas said with a sadistic chuckle. "You fool."

Jaina looked up, "Hardly the first time I've been called that, Windrunner, try harder." A small smile was fighting to get onto her face though, "Is it too late to write into the nuptials a mandatory wifely pampering after a certain stress threshold has been breached?"

"I don't know, define 'pampering'," Sylvanas returned with a smirk.

"I enjoy baths and books... a good wine?" Jaina chuckled, blushing faintly, "Speaking of, I've stood out in the rain long enough... I'm freezing."

"I could probably arrange all of those," Sylvanas hummed. "Or at the very least, just carry you through the portal to Silvermoon."

The warchief paused, blushing faintly as she processed what she'd just said.

Jaina's lip disappeared briefly between her teeth before she spoke, "... That puts you ahead of most of my past relationships." She smiled faintly, "It's very sweet of you. Hopefully it won't come to that."

"Carrying you? I'm fairly sure I could manage it, you're not that heavy." Sylvanas immediately retorted.

Why the fuck would her mouth not shut up?

Jaina snorted, "I've been carried before, Windrunner." Jaina suddenly leaned up and pressed a soft, very brief, kiss to her cold cheek, "I meant that you're surprisingly thoughtful, but to be honest I don’t much like being carted around like luggage. I'm going to go dry off and then we can get to Lorderan. We've lost enough time with you having to sleep off the first rite."

Sylvanas froze up. Touched her cheek softly.

Suddenly very glad that the dead couldn't cry. Because the urge to do so was welling up inside her, and she didn’t understand why.

Jaina couldn't seem to read her expression, taking it for something else and dimming, "I... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have."

Sylvanas took a slow breath. Awkwardly pushed aside her feelings. "No. It's fine. We... are married. And rather shortly we'll have to do something far more intimate. I was just... surprised."

Jaina nodded, "That's a necessity though. You made it clear you weren't going to force anything on me, I should at least reciprocate in kind. I should have asked or… something."

"There's a difference," Sylvanas said shortly. "You should get changed. We're probably close enough for me to contact Undercity to prepare for our arrival."

Jaina frowned in confusion, ignoring the last bit, "What's the difference?"

Sylvanas glanced at her. A dozen different responses flitting through her head. They all seemed dramatic... or aggressive... or hostile... or dishonest...

"It doesn't matter. Thank you for considering my feelings on the matter."

Jaina's frown deepened, "Windrunner." She started in a much more serious voice, "Why is there a difference?"

Sylvanas exploded into banshee form red eyes and ghostly visage lunging at Jaina. "I said it doesn't matter!" she shrieked angrily. Then she flew up to the crow's nest in a blur.

At least the sky didn't seem to want to eat her with all the cloud-cover this time...

A few moments later she heard the door down into the ship close.

The Banshee Queen huddled up there. Buried her face in her hands.

Jaina. Jaina was doing something to her. Something she didn't understand. Maybe it was the magic exchange. She felt so damn weak. So damn powerless. It was strange, unsettling. Made the urge to kill Jaina rise again. Anything but... weakness.

They were still alone... And then they'd be in Undercity. She could do it now and be done with it. And she'd have time and space to rally forces for the war that would spark.

But she'd be rid of Jaina. Rid of her influence. Rid of her proud nature. Rid of her songs. Her warmth. The small smiles. The smell of books and hemp. The surprisingly genuine laughter...

Rid of alarmingly gentle kisses to her cheek...

Yes. Undercity. Jaina would be alone and vulnerable. It wouldn't even take a fight. Just a painless toxin. She'd fall asleep and never wake up. Just as she'd planned for Vereesa and Alleria. An unknowing death. And then...

Well, she'd have time to decide about whether it was worth burying Jaina or raising her. With that much power she might even incarnate as a lich. That could be interesting.

Yes. It was the perfect plan.

She went back to hugging herself morosely.

Undeath changed you though, no one was exempt. How would it change Jaina? And if she was raised would she be controllable? A lich of that power could be quite... troublesome.

Then again, it could be worth the risk. Who could stand against the Horde with the Forsaken backed by a lich who could eclipse Kel'thuzad? Perhaps she could even return to Northrend and destroy the lich king. End that unfinished business for good. Take on the mantle of the one true Queen of Death.

So many dreams she'd had could be within her grasp.

So why was she just... moping here? Hiding in the rigging?

Well... because she wasn't going to do any of it.

She was just going to sit here with nothing but the rain and her own morose defensiveness for company.

There was a creaking down below a few minutes later, "Windrunner. Whenever you're finished sulking?"

"I am not sulking," she called down. Even she had to admit that she sounded sulky.

"... Are you ready to leave or aren't you?" Jaina didn't exactly sound like she was buying it either.

Sylvanas pulled herself together. Floated down to the deck. "Let's go," she said with a sigh.


	7. Cold, Dead Hearts

The portal opened, and the two women stepped into the old, ruined throne room of Lordaeron.

Jaina had changed into fresh clothes, reclaimed her armor and cloak, her hair somewhat dried. Her expression neutral, avoiding looking at Sylvanas.

Sylvanas didn't say anything either. What could she say?

It was politics. This was nothing but politics. She and Jaina would push through and get over it. Then Jaina would leave and things would go back to normal. Well. Normal for Sylvanas Windrunner. Minus the invasion plans. She’d just focus on mending the fractures of the Horde, finding ways to help promote the Forsaken...

She avoided looking at the throne, as always. She hadn't been here, of course, but... the bloody end of the royal family of Lordaeron wasn't exactly a secret. It didn’t bother her, exactly; death had a way of claiming your ability to feel empathy. But it was… an unpleasant reminder of how she and her people had ended up in this state.

And there were a lot of bad memories here. Personal ones.

Jaina paused, staring at the throne, but she said nothing and a moment later turned away to follow Sylvanas. The last time she’d been here, they’d been reclaiming the city from the Legion and the Apothecaries, hardly a time for sightseeing or coping with baggage from the past. Now… well, Sylvanas’s hostility tainted the moment in its own way.

Down the back passages. Two huge abominations guarded the lift down, and they saluted clumsily at their approach. Before long, they were looking out over the grand central plaza of Undercity, and definitely drawing some attention. A living human, no less than Jaina Proudmoore, in the heart of the city of the dead...

Jaina kept her back straight and if any nervousness entered her mind it didn't show at all.

She was in too sour a mood to allow herself to be intimidated.

Nathanos loomed before them, murmuring something to Sylvanas, then bowed to Jaina. "Welcome, Lady Windrunner," he said calmly. "Undercity welcomes you."

Jaina hadn't had many interactions with Sylvanas's lieutenant, but he seemed to be an arrogant and abrasive man for the most part. She'd never needed to look deeper. After all, he'd been an enemy.

"My name remains Proudmoore," she said with a calm surety, "Thank you for your welcome."

"Oh?" He glanced at Sylvanas, who gave him a look.

"You have your instructions, Nathanos, now carry them out. Shoo. Come, Proudmoore." Sylvanas pushed past him, a couple of dark ranger bodyguards seemingly materialising from nowhere to flank them as they walked.

It was a strange experience for Jaina. Walking through a Horde city with nobody but herself for defence. She was putting her life in Sylvanas's hands. This bitchy, temperamental psychopath who clearly had some issues.

Clear issues and possibly viewed her as a weak thing she was going to have to put up with. How else was she supposed to take that there were double standards? She didn't stop herself from looking around at what they were passing, but she didn't get caught up in it. She needed to remain on guard against all of them. Just in case.

There were a lot of soldiers. Armed and armoured undead, watching her with that kind of mild, generalised hostility that didn't seem personal. Just... resentful of someone living intruding here.

But there were also ordinary people. Citizens just going about their business. It was almost surreal, after so many years of war and conflict, to be reminded that much of Sylvanas’s nation was made up of ordinary people who just happened to no longer breathe.

She didn't feel like she might be attacked on the spot despite the glares, so that was something. But this place didn't feel welcoming. Moving into a guarded passageway that brought them out in Sylvanas's throne room was a relief, just getting away from that pressure.

She'd seen all of this before, of course. A while ago, and infested with a lot more demons. But the doors into the back area were unknown territory, and the guards stayed behind as they passed into...

Well. In truth, it felt as much like a dungeon as anywhere else in this strange, oppressive underground city. But it felt more like a home. And Sylvanas had obviously made an effort to soften the harsh stone. Banners and tapestries, many of them clearly elven; perhaps recovered from Quel'thalas. The furniture didn't look enormously comfortable, lacking much in the way of padding; there was an emphasis on 'easily cleaned' given the kind of people who'd usually be visiting. A lot of wood and leather.

"Well... here we are," Sylvanas said, suddenly sounding awkward.

Jaina looked around, nodding, glancing at Sylvanas directly for a brief moment before she looked away, "I'm guessing fresh food is not likely to be on hand?"

"I made arrangements in advance," she said. "And while we _can_ just eat dead rats and such, a lot of Forsaken still like... more normal food. It's the line between mindless soldier and thinking person."

Jaina stepped up to one of the more intricate tapestries. She was sure she'd seen something similar somewhere, "A meal would be appreciated. The last two I had where conjured and it's never a good idea to rely on that."

"Of course." Sylvanas gestured around. "Make yourself at home. This place... well, it's as much yours as mine now. I'll be back with a meal." She turned to leave.

Jaina nodded, not really caring if Sylvanas saw it or just thought she hadn't responded.

That altercation had really left her in a foul mood hadn't it?

Why did it matter so much that Sylvanas wasn't being open? What had she expected? Blunt and honest weren't actually the same things in the end... She leaned her head on the wall with a sigh. Maybe entertaining the idea of living here, even part time, was a stupid idea. Obviously they could get along alright but... God she'd really called this a 'relationship' hadn't she? Stupid. Utterly foolish.

Jaina did her best to get comfortable while she waited.

Eat, perform the rite, and then she'd go back to her ship. That'd be for the best. Now she knew where this was, she could just make a portal here when she needed to. And her bed was a damn sight comfier sounding then whatever Sylvanas had tucked away.

Assuming Sylvanas had a bed at all and didn't just brood on a chair.

It was really easy to picture that actually.

The undead elf returned about ten minutes later. Clutching a tray laden with food.

There seemed to be a bit of an emphasis on meat; which made sense, given how carnivorous the Scourge had been. But there was fruit, vegetables, some delicacies that were probably imported from Silvermoon. Sylvanas cleared her throat. "Follow me." She sounded... almost apologetic.

Jaina tried not to frown too much. Where was Sylvanas's mood going now? Not even the Tide Sages would be able to tell her. She got up, following after the elf.

But her sheepishness did stir a desire to try and talk.

"You wouldn't happen to have a fireplace down here, would you?"

Sylvanas pushed open a door into a smaller area. This... this was obviously her sanctum.

A throne room, an outer area to meet people in, and an actually comfortable little nook. Sylvanas put a lot of shields around herself. The furniture here was obviously painstakingly restored pieces from the palace high above. The table... didn't she recognise that table from her time with Arthas long ago? The chairs likewise? One of those private little breakfast area things.

And yes, there was a fireplace. Sylvanas set the tray down on the table, picked up a handful of powder and cast it into the grate, where a fire roared to life on the logs.

Jaina's steps behind Sylvanas slowed until she came to a full stop, staring at the restored wood and finery.

She'd thought seeing the empty castle and the dusty throne had been difficult.

This was almost too much. Even the fire roaring to life didn't pull her attention away... Or hide her distant but tight expression.

Sylvanas paused. Glanced at her. "There's a lot of memories here for you too, aren't there?" she said with an inscrutable expression.

Jaina ripped her eyes away from the delicately carved knotwork on the edge of the table, clearing her throat and shaking her head, "Sorry. I... Wasn't expecting to see anything like this again. I'd have thought you'd have things imported from Silvermoon."

"Some. The bed is Silvermoon made. But... much of Undercity was scavenged from the old city above. I didn't see any reason to leave the palace untouched. Although... some things I avoided."

 _Which parts?_ Jaina thought.

Gods she did not want to know.

In an attempt to own it she stepped forward, putting her gloved hand onto the back of the chair closest to her, feeling the grain of the wood slide under the leather as she ran her fingers over it, "... Some things are better left that way."

_'Jaina? There's something I'd like to ask you...'_

Jaina pulled her hand away like it had been bitten, rejecting the memory, and turned towards Sylvanas, looking for any kind of distraction, "Thank you for the fire. I wasn't expecting it to be so cold."

Sylvanas inclined her head. "We don't really feel the cold, but... we appreciate heat." She sat opposite Jaina, cleared her throat. "I'm... sorry about earlier."

"Earlier?" Jaina replied flatly.

Either she was talking about Nathanos's mistake...

Or Jaina did not feel like giving it to her that damn easily.

She felt justified though, Sylvanas had gone all... Banshee. That was more than a little extreme.

"I screamed at you and told you to fuck off," Sylvanas said, her glower suggesting that she knew Jaina knew, and fuck you for drawing this out.

Jaina was not swayed, "Screamed is... a word for it. Do you actually want to tell me what you meant now?"

Her expression tightened. "Not really."

"Then save your apology for when you do," the mage responded, "We were doing fine until you decided to make this difficult. If you think that I'm simply unequal to you then I'd rather you say it than try and spare my damned feelings."

"Believe me, Jaina, sparing your feelings is the last thing on my mind. You certainly have never indicated interest in sparing mine," Sylvanas countered wearily.

"Then what the hell is the problem?" Jaina snapped, "Are there Horde secrets hiding behind the answer as to why my wanting to take your feelings into account is different then the opposite? This seems like the stupidest hill to decide to plant your flag in."

"Just... eat. We'll talk about this tomorrow," Sylvanas said. Refusing to meet her gaze.

Jaina scowled, looking down at the plate. But she didn't eat immediately. Anger made her cautious rather than reckless these days and she cast her hand over it. She'd rather eat cold food then poisoned food.

Sylvana's gaze flickered. "I swore I wouldn't kill you. Do you doubt me that easily?"

"You? Only out of habit. Your people? I'll work up to trusting them." Especially Nathanos.

And the fact that 'I won't kill you' didn't mean 'I won't harm you'.

But... she ate. If only to wash down the taste of bitterness.

"Trust takes time," Sylvanas said. "And that goes both ways, Pr-" She paused. "Jaina."

The mage sighed, "Yes. I'm very acquainted with that fact." But... She relented, if only a little, "...Sylvanas."

Sylvanas sighed softly. Got to eating herself. "So," she said, casting around for a change of topic. "Ice next?"

"Yes." She ate a little quickly, rather hungry. Conjured food just wasn't as nourishing to the one who conjured it, "It will be more intense than Fire. I imagine that will go doubly for us."

She shifted. "Frost is inseparably tied to the undead, it's true."

"The Ice rite is tied to the mind, it's somewhat linked to the realm of death, but... Considering your state as a banshee and reaction to the first rite I expect this will cause a similar, but more pronounced effect." It... could also intensely mess with her own mind considering her familiarity with Ice magic. Honestly she was starting to wonder if that first rite really had been as normal as she assumed. She’d obviously never performed it before and even she had to admit that books could only describe things so far...

"Best that you're well rested before we get into that, then," Sylvanas said. "I'll make sure there's food ready when we're done. Food and the fire."

She nodded, she was rather tired after steering the flagship about all day while Sylvanas slept. she'd planned to just push this through and then go back to it but...

"... Where should I sleep?"

"You let me use your bed," she said. "Mine is all yours. Unless you'd prefer other arrangements."

"No." Fine, they couldn't manage some basic things... But this could still at least function for now, "This will be fine. Thank you."

Sylvanas got to her feet. Nudging open a door. As suggested, there was an elven bed there, all veils and silk and ornate designs. "We'll find a way to live together, Jaina," she said wearily. "It'll take time. But we'll work it out."

"I hope so." She'd followed Sylvanas over quietly, glancing inside and was actually rather relieved. Had it been a refurbished one from above she'd never even step in the room.

A moment's hesitation and then she gently touched Sylvanas's arm, "I mean that." Then she stepped inside.

Sylvanas laid a hand on Jaina's shoulder briefly, pulled away. "Sleep well." Then she gently shut the door.

First night in Undercity.

Perhaps the first of many.

She took a moment to collect herself before she started mechanically undoing her braid, pulling lose the light armor and overcoats. She didn't get naked, She rarely felt safe enough to sleep like that. But she did get down to her underclothes before she pushed through the drapery around the bed and slid into the covers.

This was manageable. This was workable. She just had to keep her expectations in check.

***

Jaina walked through the halls of the old palace. Arthas was waiting for her. They were going to discuss the wedding. People bustling everywhere, getting ready for it.

She took the deep queasy unease for excitement. She wasn't dressed for it but... Well, she could get ready later. Arthas was waiting for her. 

He was in the grand throne room. Where was Terenas? Probably busy elsewhere. But there was Arthas. Looking as determined and dashing as ever. Lounging on the throne. Silly boy. He wasn't really supposed to, but he did from time to time, when nothing was going on.

"You know you'll get told off again." She smiled... Even as her stomach twisted angrily, begging her to leave, "Were we going to talk about plans or where you going to lounge around like a silverpaw?"

"I can do both," Arthas said with a laugh. Rose to his feet, approached her. "Jaina, my love. How are you doing?" His hand brushed her cheek. Cold. Why did he feel cold?

Oh god. Oh god no. Please just make it stop.

"I'm fine." She snorted, leaning into his hand with a teasing grin, "What, did you expect me to be nervous marrying the future kind of Lordaeron? Not on your life."

"I'm so glad. I've got some big plans. Come, I want to show you something." He wrapped his arm around her, setting off towards the courtyard.

She leaned into him with a chuckle even while she felt panic clawing at the back of her mind. It was like some distant part of her was screaming, "Big plans? This ought to be good."

Out into the courtyard. People were assembled, making preparations, but they all stopped, turning to cheer as the two emerged. "Big plans," he confirmed. Drew his sword. A sword? What happened to his hammer?

He raised it in the air, and energy pulsed out. Corpses dragging themselves from the ground, and pouncing on the servants and soldiers, devouring them alive. Screams echoed.

"What do you think?" Arthas said, in the tone of one asking for an opinion on a colour choice.

“... Stop.” She'd seen this before, she'd seen it before... And finally the fear gripped her wholly, the spell of her long ago love-affair broken, "Stop! Arthas! Please, stop this!" She tried to pull away.

He turned, and glowered at her with cold eyes through the Helm of Domination. "This is the future, Jaina." The Lich King grasped her shoulder tightly, holding her in place, his voice a harsh growl. "Death will claim all, and there will be peace. Isn’t that what you want?"

"No! Listen to me!" She gathered power into her hand for a portal, she had to get away, had to warn everyone, had to stop him, "Why won't you listen to me?! It never had to be this way!"

"You'll see," he intoned, a clawed gauntlet tightening on her. “Join me, Jaina. Join me in death.” Pain, as Frostmourne plunged into her chest. Deathly chill spread over her.

Jaina clutched at the blade, felt her blood gushing out and freezing into crimson ice, the feel of her soul being slowly torn away. But when she looked up, it wasn’t Arthas holding the blade.

"Join me," Sylvanas repeated, clawed gloves digging into Jaina’s shoulder as she twisted the blade with a savage smile.

***

She screamed as the air left her, ice exploded around her across the room. She was somehow free, somehow able to move again and she did so, kicking back, slamming into an iced-over headboard, surrounded by elven finery.

Her scream was still echoing in the chamber as she finally realized that she had been asleep. She'd been having a nightmare. The bed was covered in frost, it reached across the floor and crept up the walls.

Realizing the truth didn’t calm her exactly. It never did. All she could do was give in to the surge of terror and curl against her knees, sobbing quietly in the silent, frozen room.

The door pushed open, Sylvanas looming. "Jaina?" she asked frantically. "Jaina, what happened? Were you attacked?"

Jaina did her best to try and gather herself again, forcing ragged breaths to even as she swiped tears away with trembling fingers, "It's nothing! It's nothing." She didn’t look up.

Sylvanas knelt on the bed next to her. "You were screaming," she said quietly. "Nightmare?"

She was unable to calm the tremors even as she managed to dry her tears, "... They aren't... They haven't been so bad in a while. I'm sorry." She didn't want to show her tear-stained face to anyone, let alone Sylvanas.

Sylvanas touched her arm gently. "Is there anything... anything I can do?"

Jaina couldn't even feel bad for initially flinching away. An unconscious reflex. Especially after that particular nightmare. She swallowed heavily, hanging her head as she tried to figure out what to do. Usually she had some amount of space to herself and she could just take the time she needed to cry and calm down. She could theoretically chase Sylvanas off, send her away…

And yet.

The rites may not be finished but... this was her wife, wasn’t it?. There was nothing wrong with asking for what she needed in moments of extreme duress. Right? Even if she was afraid? Even if she could still vividly imagine Sylvanas shoving Frostmourne deeper into her chest as life was violently sucked away from her?

"Hold me." She spoke so quietly she wasn't even sure an elf's ears would pick it up.

Sylvanas didn't respond for a moment. Then, slowly, gently, she wrapped her arms around Jaina.

"Was it... him?" The warchief asked finally.

Jaina's trembling only increased at first but she stubbornly pushed herself against Sylvanas chest, tucking her face against her shoulder. She refused to be afraid of this woman, "... Yes."

The elf was cold. Undead and cold. Just like Arthas had been in the end.

Stop thinking like that. Stop it. It's not helpful. She wasn't so cold as the literal Lich King...

And she wasn't so selfish as the boy that had been Jaina's first love.

There were things to worry about. But there was nothing to fear here.

If anyone might understand... Wouldn't it be Sylvanas? Arthas hadn't even killed Jaina. She must look ridiculous to this woman.

"I'm sorry."

Sylvanas just shook her head. Tightened her grip a little. "He's the reason that I'm glad that I don't dream," she said simply.

Jaina managed to undo the strain on her arms enough to carefully wrap her arms around the elf's waist, hugging her back, the trembling starting to fade a little. The thought of comparing what had happened to the two of them because of Arthas was incredibly sobering.

"I've only heard stories. Third hand accounts. I'm... I'm so sorry." Jaina wasn't usually this fragile, but a woman whose life had been taken and her soul tortured because of Jaina's own failure was trying to comfort her. It felt like a sick joke.

"I should have tried harder, but when it was all starting I just... Arthas had always been headstrong. I didn't think I'd change his mind and I couldn’t stomach what he was going to do. I didn't know what he'd end up becoming..." 

Sylvanas shook her head. "I... don't want to talk about it," she said tightly. "But... thank you. It's surprising how rarely I… or any of my people... get any kind of sympathy for what we went through."

Jaina didn't blame her for this one. She actually relaxed even more, closing her eyes, "You don't have to talk about it." She said quietly. Her shaking was finally calmed, her tears dried up again. Nothing to fear here. It was just a nightmare. It was just an overactive guilty mind.

Her arms tightened around the ranger's waist.

Sylvanas's fingers gently caught in her hair. "Do you want to delay the rite of ice?"

She shivered at that, but didn't reject the touch, "No. I'll be fine, honestly." She just... didn't want to let go yet. It felt nice, "Besides, we've lost a lot of time, we have to complete the next rite before the previous one's magic degrades."

"Very well." Sylvanas gave a soft, only slightly forced laugh. "I'll make sure you get plenty of pampering afterwards."

She snorted, "I'm more worried about you, last time you slept an entire day away."

Jaina finally loosened her hold enough to pull back. Not completely out of the embrace, just... Enough to sit up and look her in the face.

Her nightmare paled in comparison to the real lines of Sylvanas's jaw and ears, the way her hair fell, the soft glow of red eyes against the darkness that made her skin look pale instead of blue...

Oh.

She... Was actually quite beautiful wasn't she?

That thought was gently folded into an envelope and... tucked into a drawer somewhere. Let's just not think about how pretty a dead woman was. That was… Definitely a thought Jaina was not ready to have yet.

Sylvanas gazed back at her, evidently a little confused, but not objecting. "I'm on my home ground. And I've got more in common with ice than fire," she pointed out. "I suppose we'll see."

"I guess we will." Jaina nodded, "Thank you, for this. I would have managed but... It's easier to do so this way."

The elf said nothing. Just shrugged, smiled a little sadly.

Then, seemingly on impulse, pressed a small kiss on her forehead. "You're welcome."

The mage flushed, not fighting it. Part of her wanted to demand if she was being pitied or coddled because after Kalec she had no interest in such things. But the rest of her was trying to think of reasons not to pull her closer and-

"Um... Did I interrupt anything? When will you have time for the rite?" Just move along. Nothing to see here. Just a mage slowly losing her mind. It would be fine.

Sylvanas shook her head. "I've cleared my schedule for a few days. Just to... make sure that everything is settled between us. You slept right through the night."

Ah yes. No windows down here. It was impossible for her to tell what time it was.

"... Remind me to get a clock." Jaina glanced around, then, without really thinking about it conjured a cup of tea for herself, a calming post-nightmare ritual, "No time like the present I suppose."

"As you wish. Perhaps... not in here? You've already destroyed these sheets."

The ice had not been kind to the bed linens.

Jaina glanced down, "... Ah. I'll replace those." She gave Sylvanas an apologetic grimace, "Wherever you feel is right."

Sylvanas got to her feet, offered her hand, and led the way into the front room. "There should be space in here," she suggested. Already peeling her gloves off.

Jaina had tugged on her pants at least for modesty's sake. She abandoned the half drank tea-cup on the table and approached.

When she held up her hands she finally looked into Sylvanas's eyes, "Just remember to relax."

The undead elf nodded. Holding her hands up, half-closing her eyes. Seeming much more relaxed than last time. Perhaps feeling more prepared, thinking she knew what to expect.

She took a deep breath... And reached for the power. The door between them was unlocked, now it was time to open it.

The cold of Jaina’s own magic never got to her like natural ice did. Her own cold was pleasant to her. She had no way of knowing if it was pleasant to Sylvanas though as she gathered the power in her hands before pressing their palms together. The room's temperature around them started to plumet abruptly. Much more than should have happened, but she didn’t have the time or space to think about how off this was from what she’d read in preparation for this. She had to focus and weave the magic correctly.

The same prickles of the arcane points across her body shivered as not just ice, but Sylvanas's own undead magics seeped in.

For Sylvanas... It was like being plunged into an icy sea, not quite close enough to the surface to reach it herself. But she could feel something reaching for her in a way, inviting her to grab on and be hauled up to safety.

And she grabbed for it. Once again her eyes glowed, red and cool blue flowing out of her as if to answer the arcane. This wasn't overwhelming like the fire had been. This was familiar but… different. Ice that didn’t feel like a prison, ice that didn’t hold malicious intent. The chill of a winter forest. Quiet but… _Alive_

An intense feeling of openness, of vulnerability, overtook Sylvanas suddenly but it was hard to say where it came from. In front of her Jaina had stepped forwards, lacing their fingers again... But this time she didn't maintain eye contact, she leaned forward and rested her forehead to Sylvanas's. It didn’t seem to be part of the ritual exactly.

Voices filtered through her mind that were not her own.

 _"It's your inquisitive nature I've come to rely on."_ An older man's voice.

 _"I understand, of course, but I'll be waiting if he does you harm, Jaina."_ Kael'thas, his voice not yet burdened with loss.

 _"Just... Be on your guard, Jaina. Please?"_ Kalecgos.

 _"Nowhere to run. You're mine now."_ Arthas... No. The Lich King.

And underneath it all that song.

_Beware, Beware... Of me._

Sylvanas was prepared this time. There was more, but... she'd felt a touch of this before.

A few flickering glimpses of her own flowed the other way. Contextless, no clear or definite images, just sensations. Hate. Fear. Pain.

Failure.

Something that they had in common. Unbending wills... and a litany of failures.

On top of these sensations... she could feel Jaina's pulse. Not against her hands, it was like it was her own, separated only slightly from where her own heart would be beating.

There was a horrific... need. The murderous urge to take that pulse, to consume it and make it stop. Suppressed, subsumed, banished from conscious thought. But Sylvanas was undead, a weapon, a creation of the Legion, whatever else she was, and some things could never be entirely erased.

It was easier to push away because there was a different urge as well. To protect that life, like a delicate hatchling. To guard it.

The ice began to recede... But as it did Jaina slumped against her a little, breathing a little heavily.

"... So much... There's... So much..." She breathed, forehead falling onto Sylvanas's shoulder again, "You're so... contained..."

Sylvanas wrapped her arms around Jaina, shivering for a moment. "Yes," she said softly. "I suppose I am."

Below their feet the ice had brutally carved into the stone a similar kind of magic circle that had been burned into the Proudmoore Flagship.

Jaina hugged her close, surprisingly firm, "I knew that this would open that door but... I can feel you. It's like your soul is whispering to me."

"Really?" Sylvanas shifted. "Sometimes I'm not sure I still have that."

Sylvanas maintained the embrace for a quiet moment, twitching lightly. "I heard that song. It's like... it dominates all that you are."

Jaina was quiet for a moment longer and Sylvanas could almost actually feel her trying to sort her head out, "It's a song that's been mine since birth. My father sung it to me in the cradle with love... The Kul Tirans sing it now in anger. The lyrics change but... It's written into me deep as any magic."

She didn't seem to mind it, oddly.

And Sylvanas could just hear the faint lull of a father's doting voice; _Ahoy ahoy, sweet daughter of the sea. Ahoy this child of mine…_

"I have songs too," Sylvanas said after a time. "All of the banshees do. We made our own songs of mourning for all the dead of Silvermoon."

"... Can I hear yours?"

Sylvanas was silent for a time. Then, softly, she began to sing. Her voice surprisingly melodic.

"Anar'alah, Anar'alah belore... Sin'dorei... Shindu fallah na..."

Jaina knew enough Thalassian to know the meaning of the words. It was obvious what it was referencing. But... She couldn't help but find it beautiful anyway. She closed her eyes, hands tracing up Sylvanas' spine firmly to hold her closer.

The song finished, and Sylvanas closed her eyes. Leaning against Jaina. Silent. Shaking a little.

Jaina gently stroked her back, holding her tightly. But she didn't know how to help with this. She didn't know what she could do... Maybe lingering wasn't a good idea, "... I think maybe we should both have pampering. Trade off weekly on who pampers who?" She was teasing but it was beyond gentle, her voice soft.

Sylvanas shook herself off. Pulled back a little. "We'll see," she said with a small smile. "For now... I owe you breakfast. There's food already prepared."

Jaina nodded. This time she didn't think to check it.

Sylvanas sat next to her this time. Wrapped an arm around her as they ate. The sharing of songs had seemingly been... a way to safely open up. Something she very evidently wasn't good at.

It was very... gentle. And she was feeling very tired after the magic use...

Jaina didn't hesitate or shy away from the affection now, leaning against Sylvanas, wrapping an arm around her waist when she didn't need it.

She was rather exhausted though.

"I think I need more sleep after everything... How are you feeling?” Jaina said finally.

"Fine. Perhaps you should rest for a little. I'll make sure the world isn't burning, hmm?"

"You don't want to join me?" It came out before she realized what she was saying.

Sylvanas hesitated. "...I'm still Warchief. I have responsibilities. We'll see."

Wow her lids felt heavy.

Jaina blinked, trying to stay a bit more upright, "Alright... I-" She had to stifle a yawn, "Just don't over work yourself... If you're tired like..." She rested her head on Sylvanas's shoulder, closing her eyes, "Like me..."

So tired.

And numb. Jaina couldn't feel her fingertips any more.

Sylvanas tilted her head. "...are you all right?"

She struggled to try and open her eyes again. Something was wrong, "No." The panic in her voice was smothered by this exhaustion that wasn't her own. It was a struggle to speak above a mumble.

"Sylvanas...? My fingers.... I can't..." She could barely open one eye. She felt like lead.

Like death.

And Sylvanas felt the fluttering of her panic and her heart even if her face and tone didn't show it.

Sylvanas didn't move for a moment. Frozen.

"Just as you wanted, Warchief," came a voice from the shadows. Nathanos emerging from the next room, smirking. "I used the batch you prepared for your sisters. Should I alert the Val'kyr to be ready?"

A tear slipped out as Jaina heard it and she couldn't help how badly it hurt.

Betrayed. 

Again.

Every time.

_EVERY TIME._

"Liar." She croaked in anguish, looking up at Sylvanas through her one cracked eye.

She tried to gather the power into her fingers, hurt and anger fueling her, Fire to purge the body, ice to empower her... Arcane to punish the bastard.

But Jaina was slipping down Sylvanas's shoulder, her strength fading. She had just enough power in her hand to form an icy dagger, her head swimming.

Forming the dagger was all she could manage, her breath was starting to come in gasps, she couldn't even feel the dagger in her hand and it slipped onto Sylvanas's lap as her fingers twitched spastically.

Darkness claimed her.

Just as the dream had promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised a cliffhanger. You're welcome.


	8. Vulnerability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've all suffered for long enough. Enjoy Chapter 8.
> 
> Also a quick reminder that you can find us on Twitter (@Inquestorm and @Awfulwafulart) if you want to ask questions, get updates, or see Waful's artistic endeavours!

Sylvanas wavered. Feeling the life fade from Jaina, watching her skin go pale.

A thousand things flickering through her mind.

“The blight reserves are topped up,” Nathanos continued. “With Proudmoore turned to our side, the Horde will be unstoppable. We won’t even need to attack Darnassus. Truly, your strategic genius knows no bounds.”

“What have you _done_?” Sylvanas breathed.

“Lady Windrunner?” he asked, confused. “I carried out your plan.”

Sylvanas clenched her fists. Clarity settling. "Antidote," she snarled. "Now. We'll discuss your version of initiative later, Nathanos. Get me the damned antidote!"

Nathanos looked nonplussed. "This is far too dangerous. Do you think she will forgive you? You always told me, never turn from a plan while on the field of battle.”

“This was _not_ my plan!” Sylvanas snarled. A piercing scream ripped from her throat to summon her guards, her eyes fixed on Nathanos.

“I carried out your will,” Nathanos said. “This was the plan we decided upon. The best use of the opportunity given. Proudmoore will ensure Forsaken supremacy and the destruction of the Alliance. With Stormwind blighted, nobody will have the forces to stand in our way.”

“Don’t quote my words back at me,” Sylvanas said. An edge of panic in her voice. “We discussed this as an option! I never gave the order!”

“When have you ever needed to? I’ve always been there to unleash your fury upon the living, at your beck and call.” He sounded so reasonable. So self-assured. So loyal.

“GIVE ME THE ANTIDOTE, NATHANOS!” Sylvanas howled. She felt Jaina’s pulse stutter, and her control vanished with it.

Her lieutenant held out a vial from his belt. Genuine bafflement on his features as two Dark Rangers burst into the room, weapons out.

Sylvanas forced the vial between Jaina’s lips. “Arrest this traitor,” she growled. “Lock him away in the secure wing.”

“Yes, Lady Windrunner,” the elves chorused, grasping Nathanos by the arms. Hearing the fury in their leader’s voice, and not wanting to test it.

Sylvanas didn’t look up as they left. Just staring down at Jaina, holding her close.

Praying she hadn’t been too late.

Trying to work out what she was going to do.

***

When Jaina awoke, she was tucked up in bed. Her head pounding, her body aching... but her heart was still beating, and the terrible numbness was gone.

Sylvanas was sat on the bed next to her, seemingly having fallen asleep while watching over her.

The mage groaned softly as the terrible ache of being alive took hold. Moving just.... hurt. She wasn't sure why she was alive… But it felt like a miracle had happened. 

But she was not one to take being betrayed gently.

Through the ache she forced herself up, shoving off the covers and hauling herself quickly all but on top of Sylvanas. Straddling her waist and gripping her collar. Strangling her would do little good, the warchief didn’t have to breathe. Even so, Jaina’s fingers would remain dangerously close to her neck, to keep her under control if nothing else.

"Wake up." Her voice was loud, rough, low and dry. It made her wince as her head pounded all the harder now.

The elf's eyes flicked open. "Jaina," she said quietly. Made no move to defend herself. "I'm... really glad you're feeling well enough to threaten me."

Jaina grimaced, gripping Sylvanas shirt tighter, "Don't." She growled, "Don't talk like you care two bits how I am." She wasn't in the best shape, Sylvanas would easily throw her off if she wanted to. She probably didn't seem that big a threat… Underestimating Jaina would be the last thing she did.

"How long?" the human all but spat.

Sylvanas didn't respond for a moment. "What do you mean?"

Jaina raised her hand, gratified as a lance of ice formed over it without hesitation. Her other Hand remained on Sylvanas’s sternum, tightly fisted in the cloth of her shirt, pinning Sylvanas to the headboard, "How long were you planning this, Warchief?"

Pain was a great fuel for anger and anger, in turn, could fuel power quite well in a pinch.

Sylvanas opened her mouth, closed it. "...the idea of killing you and raising you while your guard was down came up as soon as you proposed," she said reluctantly. "Nathanos and I discussed it several times. But I dismissed it after we had our private talk, and we found… something resembling common ground. It's crossed my mind since, but... please believe me, Jaina, he was not acting on my orders."

"Why?" Jaina hated how reasonable that sounded. From the ruthless pragmatist to the softer woman Jaina had gotten to see hints of… It would make sense. Jaina wished she’d just tried to spin a pretty lie, "Why should I believe you? And don't tell me because I'm still alive." 

Her arm was shaking from holding it up and her body was begging her to lay back down… She wasn’t still poisoned, was she?

Sylvanas swallowed. "...ask me anything you wish. I'll answer any question. I'll even tell you about my... double standard."

Jaina grit her teeth, "Fine. We'll start there."

The Forsaken elf looked away. The usual veneer of arrogance and sarcasm gone, leaving her awkward and… something else. "The difference between you and me is... at your worst, you're still human. You can be angry, and vengeful, and destructive, but you're still... you. At my worst..."

She trailed off. Looking like she was almost tempted to take the icicle through the skull rather than finish that sentence.

"Tell me!" Jaina barked.

"At my worst I could turn into Arthas," Sylvanas snapped.

The room echoed with that name for a moment, like the ghosts in these walls became restless upon hearing that cursed name again.

Jaina sat over Sylvanas, arm raised, sharp lance of ice at the ready… But she hesitated in stillness. She was caught just searching the other woman’s face. Sylvanas was afraid of becoming Arthas?

Was she like Arthas?

Sylvanas was a killer. A warrior. A ranger. A commander and a queen.... a monster and a hero.

Sylvanas was her wife.

The shard of ice fractured and slowly dissipated in a shimmer. Jaina let go of Sylvanas's collar, having to plant her hands on either side of Sylvanas head, leaning over her tiredly. Everything hurt and it was hard to stay upright like this but she’d be damned if she collapsed like some waif.

Even if an anxious twist in her gut joined the other pain she felt and for the hundredth time sense she’d proposed to Sylvanas Windrunner she internally scolded herself for being a complete fool.

"You... will never be like Arthas." The anger had drained away leaving only exhaustion in the mage’s voice.

"How do you know?" Sylvanas said. Sounding small. Exposed and vulnerable. Almost like a scared child.

"You promise me that you had no knowledge or desire for Nathanos's poisoning me?" There was an edge of pleading to that question. Did Jaina actually believe Sylvanas or was simply that she wanted it to be true.

"I swear," Sylvanas said. "Jaina... I've never told anyone about what Arthas did to me. Some of my banshees know or could guess, but... that's our secret, our bond, our sisterhood. Everyone knows that I died defending Silvermoon. It's easy to figure out why I hate him. But... it's so much more than that. I know what he was capable of when it came to his enemies. And I know that I’ve come close to that, many times, in the name of survival and victory. I’ve tried to hold to lines that I won’t cross, but... "

Jaina couldn't help but want to comfort her. The elf’s tone was the quiet of thoughts only spoken silently at night to yourself. Never to anyone else. All Jaina knew was that she'd fought Arthas valiantly and died. Never had anyone told her more specific than that and it sounded like there might have been more than just killing and raising her as a Banshee to use in his army… 

_Light_ that was bad enough as it was.

Did Jaina push for the answers that were being offered here?

If she got everything she wanted by force... What did that make her?

"... Then you won't turn in to him." She let her forehead rest against Sylvanas's, cool flesh easing her headache just a little, "You'll stop yourself from slipping down the slope... And when something tries to shove you down that road... I'll keep you from falling. You won't become Arthas because I... I won't abandon you."

Sylvanas slowly wrapped her arms around Jaina, and pressed their lips softly together in a simple, animal plea for affection and comfort.

Jaina gasped softly in surprise but didn’t pull away. She was all but on top of Sylvanas now and reached up to hold her cheek . Her lips were cold but... the human couldn't say she was repulsed. Honestly, Jaina was too tired and in pain to care. So she put her worries and her guilt to the side for one moment and kissed the Banshee a little more firmly.

It was gentle, chaste, but they were both too old, too weathered, too tired and too vulnerable for it to be the shy blushes of young love. Even a tentative kiss of comfort could hold an acre of weight behind it.

Sylvanas slowly thudded back against the headboard. "I'm sorry, Jaina," she said meekly. "I said that you would be safe here, and... then this happened."

Jaina frowned and sighed, a little irritated to be forced to deal with reality again so soon. She sank down, using Sylvanas as a body pillow. Her being cold was kind of nice if you didn’t think about the dead thing. It was like a gentle ice pack against her aching muscles, "What did you do with Nathanos?"

"I had him arrested. My rangers have him in custody. I trust them implicitly." Sylvanas paused, made a face. "Although I trusted Nathanos implicitly as well."

"You said it, not me,” the mage grumbled. No, this wouldn't do. Laying on her stomach was never the most comfortable thing. She shifted,using a knee to push Sylvanas’s legs apart… only so that she could sit between them and lean back on the Banshee. Nothing else. Too tired for anything else.

Sylvanas chair was surprisingly comfortable.

The ‘chair’ wrapped her arms around the woman, not objecting to being used as furniture. Sighed softly. "He's... he's always encouraged my more... militant side. I'm not sure what happened to him. We found each other again after I formed the Forsaken, he wasn't at the defence of Silvermoon."

"Was he much different after his death?" Jaina put her hands over Sylvanas's, leaning comfortably back into her and closing her eyes.

The elf paused. "He was... talented in life. Very talented. Didn't suffer fools lightly. And death gave us all a... bloodthirsty edge. We'd be poor soldiers if it didn't. But, well, he didn't end up with the nickname Blightcaller just because he knew how to use it."

Jaina nodded, "What do you plan on doing with him?"

"I don't know," Sylvanas said uncomfortably. "I've relied upon him for years. But clearly... I can no longer trust him to merely advise the violent techniques and approaches, but... to act on them 'in my interest'."

Jaina was silent for a time, contemplating this all again. Nathanos hadn't come up with the idea all his own, Sylvanas shared the blame, and he said something about ‘for her sisters’ so... She'd planned to use that poison on them too. Could this be trusted? Would Sylvanas keep her promise?

Was there any possible chance that the rest of Jaina’s life wasn't going to be full of this kind of thing?

Sylvanas began gently playing with her wife’s hair. "Jaina..." she said suddenly. "If you were dying... and there was no way to heal you... what would you choose?"

Jaina had started to drift with her thoughts a little, but the question startled her out of her reverie. "... What? Choose?"

"Death or... the Val'kyr."

Death or undeath. Death or damnation.

"... I don't know," the mage said finally. It was an honest answer.

"Think about it," Sylvanas said. "But I swear that I will never have you killed and raised."

Jaina opened her eyes, looking up at Sylvanas, "I believe you."

Sylvanas sighed softly. Nuzzled against Jaina's shoulder lightly. "Thank you. Perhaps... perhaps we can start to trust each other a little more."

Jaina nodded, "Two way street," she agreed, "I would like that."

She sighed, half turning so she could lay against Sylvanas sideways, conveniently letting her nuzzle into the elf’s neck, "I feel like I've gone eight rounds in a gnomish rock-tumbler."

The cool flesh was... really nice considering how feverish she felt.

Those strong arms were nice too.

And the way that Sylvanas was blushing was nice too, a purplish tinge spreading through the grey-blue flesh. A subtle change, perhaps, but visible this close in. "Comfortable?" she managed.

Jaina nodded, smirking very faintly, "Very... I could get used to this."

"Well, I suppose that we're supposed to consummate our marriage sooner rather than later, so... if I can't take being a pillow then I have no chance," the elf snarked.

"You'd be doomed to the horror of having me between your thighs in a much more aggressive and invasive fashion. What did my grandmother used to say? 'Lay back and think of Lordaeron'?"

Sylvanas looked mildly disgusted. "Please tell me that isn't common among humans. Sex as a duty... that sounds dreadful."

"Common among nobles at least," Jaina chuckled, "My grandmother believed that love was something you found where you could and marriage was something you did for the good of your people."

"I mean, the concept of the political marriage isn't lost on elves, but... ugh." Sylvanas shook her head. “I’d probably have ended up marrying Kael’thas if I was bound to what was ‘for the good of my people’.”

Jaina shuddered slightly at that image, pushed away from _that_ distasteful image.

"Well, we'll just have to try and make ours not-political." She was tired enough that being awake seemed an awful burden and her eyes closed again, curling up a little better.

The elf stroked her cheek gently. "You're still recovering. Rest, Jaina, I won't let anyone hurt you."

Jaina didn't really have the mind to respond, only nuzzling closer as she slipped into unconscious thoughts just before sleep.

Not-political? Had that really come out of her mouth? That hardly qualified them for love but... close. Close would be nice. Trusting would be nice. Jaina could be fine with a wife she didn't love but who she trusted as a partner.

***

Jaina awoke hungry and still snuggled up to a cold body, lying next to her, an arm wrapped around her protectively.

There was something surreal about waking up next to a corpse. Sylvanas didn't need to breathe and was perfectly still, something that would normally be a red flag for something being very wrong... But that gut feeling wasn't so hard to fight off.

It was a little interesting to feel the difference between skin where Jaina’s body heat had leached in and places where it had remained the same temperature as the room around them. Her skin was surprisingly soft and not corpsey for a dead woman. Still rough where a living elf's might have been silken soft...

Jaina flushed, trying not to think about that too hard.

"Sylvanas?"

The woman shifted, nuzzled Jaina gently. Still mostly asleep. "Mmmm?"

Did someone like Sylvanas have any right to be 'cute'?

"How long have I been sleeping?"

Sylvanas’s eyes slowly opened, and she rolled over to look at the small elven clock nestled on the bedside table. "It's been about twenty four hours since you were poisoned," she mumbled. "How do you feel?"

"Better." Jaina had the small embarrassing thought that she wish Sylvanas would roll back. Even if she had been planning on getting up she had been comfy. Protected. Now she felt... almost exposed.

"Hungry... Please don't take it the wrong way if I conjure this meal." She wanted to be back in top form before she tried to brave any... miscommunications again.

The elf did in fact, roll back in to snuggle her. "Are you sure you have the strength?" she mumbled. "I do understand, but..."

"I'm sure getting poisoned made me look incredibly fragile but I will remind you I was able to threaten you with a not insignificant spell when I was feeling far rougher than this." Jaina grumbled it a little... But partly it was because she was trying to school herself into not being such a needy girl about getting held again.

Sylvanas squeezed her gently.

She'd been so close to losing Jaina. If she'd been a little slower on the uptake... if she'd hesitated... oh, she could've brought the woman back. But somehow she knew it wouldn't be the same. Something would've been lost.

For the first time in a long time... Sylvanas could see the beauty in life.

So she held Jaina close, almost wishing she never had to let go.

Jaina's slight embarrassment and irritation with herself started to fade as Sylvanas didn't respond. Unsure what the woman's mood was, unable to see her face and her unnatural stillness giving very little away... She wrapped an arm around the elf.

"... I'm fine, really." She chewed her lip, then another thought came, "This doesn't breach the contract, if that's what you’re worrying about?"

"Honestly I didn't even think about that," Sylvanas murmured. "I was just... thinking it would be a shame if you died."

Jaina’s heart suddenly swelled and she knew for a fact that her face was now turning rather red.

'A shame if you died' was not usually considered a phrase that would elicit such a reaction... But this was coming from 'Madam Death and Screams, Esquire'...

It meant a surprising amount.

"Oh." She said quietly.

The elf cleared her throat. "Not that I'm going soft or anything," she grumbled. "I think you'd make a great Forsaken too. But... I like you alive."

Jaina rolled her eyes, "I've heard worse flattery. I think."

Way to douse the moment.

'You'd make a great Forsaken'. Honestly...

"Well, either way, I'm starving." At least it gave her the motivation to get up and Jaina slowly started to untangle herself.

Sylvanas seemed reluctant to let her go. But finally she allowed it, propping herself up. "You should eat, then."

"I'm also going back to my ship." Jaina said a little distractedly as she swung her legs over the side, testing the waters as she made to stand, trying to focus on other things.

"Need some fresh air?" Sylvanas said cautiously. Shifting a little.

"I need to make sure it's alright for now and bring spare clothes... Since I didn't the first time." Jaina didn't catch the cautious note in Sylvanas’s tone. She was making sure that she wasn't going to fall as she took her first step, so long in bed was murder on the muscles and equilibrium.

Not to mention poison.

"Then I'll be back and we can... Sort out the next Rite."

Sylvanas relaxed for a moment. The paranoia that Jaina was just going to leave fading. Then she squirmed, flushing as she processed the last bit. "O-of course."

Jaina was actually better than she expected and glanced over her shoulder with a teasing eyebrow raise, "Don't worry. You can just... Lay back and think of the Horde?"

"I think I'd probably dishonour every race in the Horde if I turned into a pillow princess for the first time I had sex with my wife," Sylvanas deadpanned, trying to cover her embarrassment.

"First time?" There would be more times? Jaina flushed as well and then abruptly moved on, "Well, that's... One way to look at it I suppose. Just don't feel you have to force yourself..."

The teasing was gone, she raised a hand and summoned a portal to the flagship, "I'll be back in a few hours."

"I'll be waiting," the elf said. Still lying on the bed.

Just being lazy, right? It was reading too much into it to call that a sultry look.

Reading way... Way too much into it.

Jaina nodded and stepped through the portal onto the deck of her ship, trying to calm herself. 

The fresh sea air helped.

Undercity was... oppressive. Even more so than Khaz Modan. Getting out here was definitely a relief.

She set about conjuring her food, then, checking the wards, the rigging, the hull... Everything. It took hours and gave her the space she needed and it was nice to know that her body was fast recovering. When she sat down to wash afterwards she felt renewed, not exhausted.

But... That meant she'd be going back soon.

Back to Undercity. Back to Sylvanas.

Back to her wife.

And the whole... eating out a corpse thing.

Although Sylvanas didn't smell rotten or anything, so... maybe she wouldn't taste bad?

Or Jaina could just use her fingers? Or... she could try that one thing she'd been dying to but no partner would let her to this point... The cowards.

What was a little ice between friends?

Or wives.

You know, same difference.

Jaina had gathered her bag and things before she'd really thought about it. There was nothing to do now but go back.

She held up a hand to summon the portal but still hesitated.

Sylvanas had commented that the cold didn't bother the undead... so... if anyone would put up with that...

Yup.

So, all to look forward to... right?

She chewed her lip, debating taking a detour to Stormwind to check in with Anduin and-

Oh for pity’s sake, was she really being this much of a coward?!

With a determined expression she opened the portal to Sylvanas's lounge and stepped through.

***

It was much as Jaina had left it. Except a hooded Dark Ranger was standing on duty by the door.

She was so used to these undead elves being a pain in the ass, the architects of countless offensives and Sylvanas's personal tools. To have one salute her was... weird.

Jaina had started to move to defend herself before she realized what was going on and cleared her throat, "Is Lady Windrunner out?"

"The Warchief is bathing, Lady Proudmoore," the dead elf said. "She informed me that I could take you to her when you returned, if you wished."

Jaina swallowed, swore that if she blushed in front of this ranger then she'd drown herself in the deepest part of the sea... And then nodded, calm and collected, putting her bag down onto the table, "Then yes, please take me to her Ranger... What is your name?"

"Cyndia Hawkspear, Lady Proudmoore."

If she felt the same distrust of the living that all Forsaken seemed to project, she was better at hiding it than most.

"Follow me, ma'am." She turned and stalked out.

Hawkspear. She'd be sure to remember it, "Thank you, Hawkspear."

Hawkspear inclined her head. "I'm sorry for what Blightcaller tried to do to you. It's a stain on our organisation that one of us disobeyed the Dark Lady."

Jaina thought about that, "Speak honestly, Ranger, do you personally agree that he made the right move? Do you think my death and an all out war would be preferable?"

Hawkspear paused. Glanced at her. "No," she said. "If the Dark Lady believes that this is the path that will keep the Forsaken safe and prosperous... then I trust her."

The mage smiled slightly, "Thank you for being honest, Hawkspear."

The elf set off again. "When the Lich King's control wavered and broke, we could have self destructed. Split up, gone mad with what we'd done, turned into crazed animals, been slaughtered by the Scourge... But Lady Windrunner bound us together. Gave us leadership and purpose. Helped the banshees like us regain our bodies. Without her, there is no Forsaken. Betraying her is to spit on everything we are."

"... I didn't realize." Jaina said softly, "I knew that many of the Forsaken looked to her almost like a god... But I didn't know why."

"Many don't understand or don't want to understand. But you've seen some of how all of this started. You were by Arthas's side when he was first fighting the Scourge. In many ways, you are one of the few people the Ranger corps would accept as a living consort to the Dark Lady."

Jaina sobered significantly, feeling her stomach sink even as her face remained neutral, "Yes... I suppose that makes a certain amount of sense from your point of view."

Hawkspear glanced back. "We've learned the hard way that most people look at us and just see a tame Scourge. Even those who fought in Northrend alongside us, although... Varimathras's betrayal and the Wrathgate no doubt didn't help. But you've seen how the Scourge started, personally. Actually, I think you might be the only one left among the living who did. You can appreciate where we came from... and what we're trying not to be."

"... The first days we didn't know what was happening at all or how to stop it. Then I was in Kalimdor when Silvermoon fell... But I can imagine what happened there. It's a miracle there are elves that still live between the Scourge and the fact that the Alliance couldn’t assist them..."

"What the Alliance _did_ to them under Garithos,” Cyndia corrected. “There's a reason that Lady Windrunner was so passionate in her appeals to the Horde to bring the Sin'dorei under their banner. Although our relationship with our northern neighbours is sometimes strained... we are tied together by a common history of suffering." Hawkspear glanced at Jaina, with a kind of generalised, impersonal accusation. "And rejection."

They'd emerged from Sylvanas's personal rooms and were heading into a different area, higher up. Pipes snaked here and there, and it seemed like the heat of the forges and various other operations below were being channelled up here to heat the water, as Hawkspear pushed open a door into a steamy, serene chamber, filled with pleasant, wafting scents. It seemed like there were numerous bathing chambers here, to allow a degree of privacy. The ranger looked like she was going to remain outside on guard.

Jaina looked inside, hoping the steam would hide any blush for what she was likely to walk into, "I don't know how much of this arrangement’s specifics you've been privy to, but I'm to be liaison between the races. All of them. And as I told your Dark Lady I'll be wanting to hear from the people, not just their leaders. Should you have any more thoughts on your mind, you or the other Rangers... Please don't hesitate to tell me. I want to hear them."

And she meant that honestly. Not just because she was stalling for a moment before she went into the baths. She gave Hawkspear a nod and headed inside to find...

Her wife.

There was the sound of water splashing lightly.

"...Jaina?" Sylvanas said, her outline dimly visible in the water.

Don't panic.

"I thought we were supposed to pamper each other?" Jaina moved to the edge of the pool, heels of her boots clicking on the stone. Don't look away, coward, you're going to have to get used to it.

"You were away," Sylvanas said defensively. "I invited you to join me here, didn't I?"

She pulled herself out onto the side, and Jaina got a brief glimpse of bare grey back and butt before she swirled a towel around herself for modesty's sake.

"You did." Jaina was not blind to the muscles there. Sylvanas was an elf and dead but her body was well preserved and she'd been an archer. "Are you.... Are you getting out?"

...was she really getting racy thoughts over athletic shoulders?

"No. Just... not rushing into shared nudity," Sylvanas said awkwardly.

"... You invited me to the bath with you but you're not rushing into shared nudity." Jaina said pointedly.

Sylvanas flushed. "I haven't done this for a long time. Not willingly in even longer."

"Willingly?" She tensed, "... Sylvanas... We don't... We don't have to do anything yet I..." Ok, now she felt particularly vile for basically spending the last several hours thinking about what this woman looked like naked or would be like in bed.

"I'm not a fragile little flower," Sylvanas snapped defensively. "Give me the same respect you demand for yourself. If I felt that I wasn't ready for this or didn't want to do it, we wouldn't be here."

Jaina frowned, readying for a fight, "It's not about being -"

No. Calm down. Relax. Wait...

She approached, lowering herself to kneel next to Sylvanas, "I don't think you're fragile. But I know what it's like to... To push through things you're not comfortable with for the sake of those you care for. I just don't want you to feel like you have to do that."

The elf snaked out a hand, tugged her closer by the collar, forcing her to turn her hips and sit sideways on the floor to get closer. Looking like she was going to stay angry for a moment.

Then Sylvanas softened. "Thank you," she said simply.

Jaina felt the water soak into her breeches as she ended up not quite in the lap of the near naked ranger, "You're... You're very welcome." She had to pry her eyes upwards, away from her lips.

Sylvanas saw the gaze. Quirked a smile. Leaned in, pressed their lips gently together. Her grip on the towel loosening. "Do you... want to join me in the water?" she said, almost shyly.

The hot water had made Sylvanas warm and that was only slightly less startling then being kissed by her.

"A bath sounds nice." Jaina said, a little quietly. Just... a friendly bath. Like they'd laid in bed together. Nothing... Nothing unreasonable.

Sylvanas slowly let the towel fall, slipping into the water. The light was dim, but... despite the muscle, she had some pleasant heft to her chest. The nipples a dark, almost purplish colour, looking... rather tight. More intimate, southernly details were... obscured by the water.

Jaina swallowed, turning a little pink as she rose up. She only half turned away as she started to pull the laces of her bodice apart, undoing the buckles of the faux-corset and dropping both. Next was the lace on her pants and she slid the tailored cloth over her hips as she kicked off her boots. Soon she was standing in little but her skivvies again and she felt rather... exposed. Sylvanas had the benefit of hiding in water.

A strategic choice maybe? Clever bitch...

Not helpful. you can't take a bath in your underwear, idiot. So Jaina pulled the chest-cloth off over her head and the pants down over her thighs. Very naked now, she couldn't look at Slvanas as she sank into the heated water.

Sylvanas was looking away. Offering some privacy.

But she couldn't help trying to sneak little glances at Jaina. She'd mostly been with men in her time, but... she'd had dalliances with women before. Mostly heated affairs in the field, to relieve the stress and tension of war. She could appreciate the female form.

Admitting her fears about turning into Arthas aloud had made it... harder to lie to herself about the little things. Like the fact that she was finding herself genuinely attracted to Jaina, not just... making the best of circumstances.

Shit, now Jaina was in the water too. Cuddling up might be weird... but she didn't want to seem distant... and they'd need to actually have sex sooner rather than later...

Argh. What do.

At least she felt more comfortable looking at Jaina now that she was in the water, and less like a perv.

Not that water was that good at hiding things, even in the dim light of the incense burners and torches.

Not good at hiding the rather excited, dark nipples that bobbed just below the surface, not enough to hide the tuft of silver hair that she couldn't see the details of between her legs...

Jaina cleared her throat and reached up, untying her braid and letting it loose though not bothering to undo it with her fingers and it was slow to unwind in the hot water.

That was safe. Right? She shifted closer. Delicately reached out to help undo the braid and help it not get tangled.

Jaina searched her face a little and then turned around, letting her access all of it to undo it, the tension in her shoulders slacking as Sylvanas's fingers ran over her scalp to free everything.

She really seemed to like that.

Sylvanas kept going. Massaging her scalp. Then her hands shifted, moving down to her back and shoulders. Working through the knots and tension. "I remember doing this with the other rangers, back in Silvermoon," she hummed softly. "Helping each other relax after a hard day of patrols and exercises..."

Jaina groaned softly, leaning back into the touch. She wasn't the worst Sylvanas had ever worked on, but that was only because she lacked the muscles to really have them screw up like an archer did.

"That's... Very good..." She breathed, her thighs drifted, brushing Sylvanas's knees, but Jaina didn't react.

"Have you had anyone give you a massage like this recently?" the Forsaken Queen asked. "Or... ever? You mages do like to ignore taking proper care of your body sometimes..."

"My brother gave good ones but... He died in the second war. And I was never naked with him thankfully." Jaina whimpered when Sylvanas found a particularly grisly knot.

Sylvanas clicked her tongue. "As I thought. Consider this added to your pampering regimen. The wife of the warchief needs to be in good physical condition, or the orcs will never let me hear the end of it," she added with a faint laugh.

"Damn the orcish standard, we're adding it because it feels good." Jaina sank lower into the water, a little attention and the scariest mage in all of Azeroth was putty in her hands.

"Glad to hear it." The banshee was enjoying herself now. Feeling Jaina loosen up. And those little groans and squeaks...

Even dead flesh can heat up with the right stimulation. She honestly couldn't remember the last time she'd actually felt aroused.

Jaina's hair was spreading out through the water and she finally came slowly to rest against Sylvanas's chest, her eyes closed, breathing deep.

She was so alive even compared to Sylvanas's heated flesh...

"Sylvanas...?"

When Jaina opened her deep blue eyes to look at up her... She could feel it. That pulse almost resonating against her. Almost, but not quite, within her, as though her own dead heart was trying to beat in sympathy.

"Yes, Jaina?" she murmured.

"Would you object to me kissing you?" The mage asked it like she was asking for clarification of terms.

Sylvanas bit her lip for a moment. "No," she said softly. "I think I'd like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They gon' bang.


	9. The Third Rite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In deference to any readers who aren't so bothered with the sex (I know we have at least one <3), plot fully re-engages about two-thirds of the way in, and you're fairly safe to skim up to that point. For everyone else... get your technical necrophilia on, and enjoy.

Jaina sat up, water dripping off her hair as she turned around. Her fingers slid over Sylvanas's shoulders, one hand reaching up to cup her face as she floated closer through the water.

Her heart was beating so fast... Stark contrast to her calm and determined expression as she tilted her head and leaned in. Her own lips were a little chapped from the salt air, but the steam had softened them and she was rather more intent then the last two times that Sylvanas had kissed her.

She wanted a bit more this time.

Sylvanas's hand moved around, cupped her cheek in return.  Then, perhaps strange to an outside observer, moved down to her neck.  Feeling the pulse there as their lips pressed together.

The elf wanted more too.

Blue lips parted, tongue probing  a little.

Jaina shivered as she opened her mouth in return. Her hand on Sylvanas's shoulder slipped behind the Warchief, gripping the edge of the pool as she pressed closer to Sylvanas. Jaina’s knee pressed between Sylvanas’s as their tongues finally touched. She tasted much like she smelled, earth and blood and frost all suggesting themselves.  It sent a shiver down the human’s spine but it wasn't so repulsive as one might expect.

 Sylvanas didn't rush.  Content to just... sample.  Experiment. Her other hand slowly moving to wrap around the other woman's head, a shiver running through her as Jaina pulled closer.

"I suppose I should check..." The dead woman murmured with a laugh.  "Before we just... launch into that last rite... do we need to do anything first?"

 Jaina swallowed to ensure she had a voice before shook her head, "No, though, I'd... rather do that in the bedroom if you don't mind. I just..." She pulled back just a little to give them space to breathe, "I just wanted to do this."

Sylvanas giggled.  Nuzzled into her neck, gently suckled at her pulse, running her tongue over it lovingly.  "Works for me..." she said softly.

Jaina gasped lightly and turned her head. The pulse quickened again and Sylvanas could feel an echo of it in her chest. Unlike before though, the mage couldn't stop the red creeping over her face, "Careful of those teeth..."

"Of course," Sylvanas said.  Kissed Jaina again needily. "I just... I needed to feel it.  It's such a little thing, but... you're alive, Jaina. And being this close to you, feeling you... I almost feel alive too."

Jaina couldn't help feeling a little blown about by those words. So, Sylvanas didn't relish her undeath. It... Never entirely seemed like it, to be fair, but it could be hard to tell. The woman was stoic... And when she wasn't being that unflappable calm commander she was veering between emotions. It was hard to get a read on how she might react to things… Or how much of it was an act.

She didn’t seem to be acting right now though.

Jaina pressed herself closer to the other woman, kissing her again instead of a response. She didn't have one. She just... Wanted to indulge Sylvanas's positive feelings. Give her something more pleasent then the hints of torture that Jaina was catching from her. Something to cling to that wasn't just... survival.

There was more than one kind of death after all, Jaina knew that from personal experience.

The mage’s tongue probed into Sylvanas's mouth aggressively. She hadn't initiated this as anything other then a kiss but... Well. She tended to be an aggressive lover these days.

Vereesa had told her about that game that the three sisters had played.  What had Sylvanas's three statements been? Sometimes she wished she were alive, she was proud to be warchief, and she would never betray her sisters.

The first seemed true.

Sylvanas reciprocated.  Seeming... almost playful.  The eager actions and reactions of a youngster discovering their sexuality, rather than the decades old undead warhorse that she was.

It was entirely bizarre for Jaina to feel like the more storied and stable lover between the two of them. Sylvanas was older, wasn't she?

_Elves._

But that did cross off the possibility that none of them were true. And left her with three options left. She wasn't proud to be warchief, she would betray her sisters, or... None of the above. There was the possibility they were all true.

Sylvanas had rarely ever played strictly by the rules, right?

How would she react to being asked directly?

… Jaina would think about finding out another time.

Jaina had all but pinned her, gently, to the side of the pool. Kisses continued even as the hand on Sylvanas’s cheek moved up along her jaw, using a thumb to gently stroke along her earlobe and the underside of her ear.

The elf tilted her head into the touch, a soft moan sounding faintly at the attention to her ear.  Her arms wrapping around Jaina's neck, holding her close. Then she braced herself, legs moving up and wrapping around Jaina's waist.

It was very easy to push aside awkwardness with a woman moaning in your ear. Jaina had never much paid attention to the gender of her lovers. Many had been male... But several had been female. She didn't much care which really, she was just interested in them as people and she'd do with whatever parts were attached.

Jaina carefully kissed up Sylvanas's jaw to her ear, following the path of her fingers before suckling on the small lobe.

The elf was quivering lightly under her touch now.  Her fingernails scratching over Jaina's back as she moaned again.  "You seem to know your way around a quel'dorei ear," she joked breathlessly.

"Not all the rumors about me are false..." Jaina may never have been with Thrall... But he was hardly the only person who she'd been accused of having 'relations' with, "Though if you call me a whore I will terminate this marriage on the spot." She nipped the sensitive ear a little teasingly.

"What about in the heat of the moment?" Sylvanas returned with a faint chuckle.

Cheeky bitch.

"I can be a lot less gentle, you know. How does Forsaken flesh take to bruising?" Jaina bit down a little harder, careful that she was on the fleshy part so she wouldn't hurt the cartilage.

Actually that was a good question, they healed somehow, right? But did she need to be careful of any kind of particular damage?

"Mmm... I'm getting the picture that you like it rough..." Sylvanas hummed.  "And we bruise, after a fashion. It simply takes... more dedication than on the living."

Jaina pulled back slightly, checking the accosted earlobe. No kidding...

"I just found that unlike my younger years I... Enjoyed being aggressive. Sometimes that means rougher than others. I blame the Kul Tiran blood, for convenience's sake."

She couldn't actually remember the last time she'd done anything one might consider 'love making'. Probably not sense her early twenties or late teens.

"Very convenient," Sylvanas teased.  Ran her tongue up Jaina's neck. Kissed her again.  A hand sliding downwards, before finally grasping her butt.  "I have no issues with aggression."

The Mage squeaked faintly. Jaina wasn't a physical fighter by any means... But she wasn't completely lacking muscle. She narrowed her eyes in a silent expression of 'you asked for it'.

Wrapping an arm around Sylvanas's waist, Jaina pressed her hard against the side of the pool to pin her there... Unintentionally grinding against her a little as she kissed her with a rather new found hunger.  Her free hand gripped one of Sylvanas's thighs as her tongue busied itself making demands of the elf’s.

Sylvanas's laugh was cut short by a faint squeak as the thigh ground against her, and by the tongue invading her mouth.  "Perhaps... we should head for the bedroom?" she said as Jaina drew back for breath. A hungry, needy look in her eyes.

Jaina nodded, looking her over. There was still a tiny voice in the back of her head shouting that she was kissing a corpse... But she couldn't find a shred of care about it otherwise.

She disentangled herself from Sylvanas and pulled herself out of the pool, grabbing her things quickly, wringing out her hair as she snatched up a towel. She was practically humming with need now.

Was fucking a dead woman creepy? Yes.

Was she going to do it anyway? ...Right now, gladly.

Better to regret it later then to have a cold and awkward open into the third rite.

The banshee pulled herself out of the water as well, water trickling down her grey flesh.  Aggressively she began drying herself off and picked up her clothes, seemingly planning to quickly get dressed and walk back to her chambers.

Jaina had other ideas.  Fuck walking, she’d apologise to Hawkspear for leaving her outside later.  She caught Sylvanas around the waist from behind as the woman finished pulling her shirt on, and tugged her through a portal back to the bedroom, not even having dried off fully.  “You’re wearing too much now, love.”

Sylvanas squeaked, startled.  Actually squeaked.

She'd made Sylvanas Windrunner, Warchief of the Horde, Dark Queen of the Forsaken, squeak.

Jaina didn't let go, she hiked Sylvanas's shirt up, pressing kisses up her spine as more and more dark skin was revealed. That was strangely adorable and arousing in ways it probably shouldn't be. Another hint that Sylvanas wasn’t the warmachine she painted herself as. Another small thing who knew how many others might have ever seen in her… What other noises might this woman make under the right moment?

The elf was clearly used to being in control, and suddenly having someone else set the pace was leaving her off balance.  She stumbled forward, leaning on the bed, arching into the kisses and pressing back into Jaina a little. Her breasts spilling out as the shirt was peeled up.

Jaina's hesitation, her anxiety... It all melted away. Her teeth scraped teasingly at Sylvanas's shoulder as sher hands caught the cooling flesh of her chest, lifting them to keep Sylvanas against her and using the position to fondle her slowly. It started with lazy squeezing and teasing at first before she found the nipples that had taunted her earlier and rolling them between her fingers.

Sylvanas seemed to to be a little numb.  Her responses not as quick or serious as others she'd been with.  Dead nerves, deadened sensations. But she was moaning softly, pressing against the attentions, unable to reciprocate, stuck propped up against the side of the bed for a moment.  Still, she recovered quickly, straightened up, leaning back into Jaina, nuzzling against Jaina's cheek as best she could.

"Guess I worked you up a little?" she teased softly.

Jaina hummed, "... A little. Does it feel alright? Should I be firmer?"

Aggressive did not mean unattentive or mean.

"Firmer?" Sylvanas breathed.  "Go ahead. I can take it. Make my heart beat, Jaina."

Jaina’s own heart picked up in response to those words and she had to remind herself to breathe. Her fingers tightened around the nipples still in her grasp and she ducked her head, mouth finding Sylvanas' pulseless neck, teeth biting in harder then she might normally as she suckled at the flesh hard, intent on making the queen of the dead feel alive.

The woman tilted her head, arched, moaning softly.  Mumbling soft exclamations in her mother tongue. Dark marks finally appearing on her neck.  Her hands moving back, settling on Jaina's hips. Clearly keen to touch Jaina back, but... obstructed by the positions.

She finally released Sylvanas's neck and pressed flush to her, whispering in her ear, "Is that better, Banshee Queen?"

Her teeth caught Sylvanas's ear.

"Yesssss," Sylvanas said, half a hiss, half a moan.  "I can feel it... but I need more, enough teasing..."  She grabbed one of Jaina's hands, tugged it downwards.

Jaina let her one hand be dragged, her nails intentionally bared against Sylvanas' skin as it did so to make sure Sylvanas felt the descent, but her fingers flattened out as they hit the patch of hair between her legs.

"I’d hate to keep you waiting...." She cupped Sylvanas curiously.

The Forsaken was surprisingly slick.  Apparently that part of her body still more or less worked.  Her flesh was still warm from the water, although it was cooling again, and Sylvanas arched into the touch, the little nub of sensitive flesh at the top so very easy to find.

Jaina bit her lip. It was incredibly exciting whenever she turned someone on, if she was honest... But Sylvanas wasn't just anyone. It was a bit like how flattering it'd been to discover how excited she could get Kalec...

But she found she liked this even more.

It was simple to slide two fingers through her folds, and she didn't hesitate to give Sylvanas what she wanted, pressing into her clit firmly, rubbing back and forth with both fingers as her other hand continued to pinch and pull on her nipple.

Sylvanas wasn't quiet in her praises.  "Oh Jaina..." she moaned. "Jaina, yes... don't stop..."

The banshee hadn't felt this kind of pleasure in a very long time.  When Jaina had asked if she could have sex... well. She knew the answer was yes.  But Sylvanas hadn't expected it to be this easy, this vibrant, this... quick. Dimly she was aware that much of her sensitivity was from unfamiliarity, that her cold, dead flesh could only respond to so much.  Even with that knowledge, though... by the sun, she was putty in Jaina's hands.  Her pride would demand turnabout, if not now then in the future, but for right now... she could feel her body sluggishly trying to imitate life, her muscles tensing, her legs struggling to hold her up.

"D-do you want me to move?" she moaned weakly.

Part of Jaina was just amused at the fact that, yes, the Banshee was in fact loud in bed. But the rest of her was too damn excited by her noises to find it funny.

"Move?" She hummed as she pressed a little firmer before it clicked, "Be a little hard to keep this up if you fall over I suppose." Jaina pulled her hands away, kissing Sylvanas's shoulder, "On the bed."

Sylvanas practically sprawled on the bed.  Crawled forward on her knees, rolled onto her back, legs spread, eyes cloudy with need, gazing up at Jaina.  "Like this?" she said with a teasing grin, regaining a hint of control.

Jaina followed her. Considering how 'in control' she'd been a moment ago she looked like she might do anything Sylvanas asked in that moment.

Was a corpse allowed to be this beautiful?

Was she just going to keep harping about Sylvanas being a corpse when she'd already made up her mind about this?

Yes apparently. But probably not for much longer, it was proving to be a waste of time.

"Like that." She confirmed softly, moving upwards first to kiss Sylvanas. It was more tender then she intended going in but hunger soon overtook that and she bit into the elf's lower lip before she pulled away again, running her hands down Sylvanas's ribs and waist, resting briefly on her thighs.

Sylvanas kissed her back with just as much fire.  But now that they were face to face... she could touch the other woman, and her hands eagerly reached out, running down her sides, over her stomach, up over her chest.  Seeming to just... sample the feel of the skin.

The living skin was heated and soft. She had a few small scars, just from injuries over the years, most had always been fixed with magic but not all. Jaina shivered a little at the touch and let her explore happily... Though she didn't hesitate to continue her attentions either, this time in a new way, her still sticky middle finger traced down the inner line of Sylvanas' thigh, over the hollow between leg and hips... And then sunk into the source of that dampness, watching her face intently.

The Forsaken woman gave a strangled moan, writhed like she'd been stabbed - but the reaction was clearly pleasure rather than pain.  She rolled her hips a little, trying to claim more of the finger penetrating her. Confusion as well as hunger clouding her expression, clearly wondering who this mysterious carnal goddess was that could coax her dead flesh into such reactions.

Jaina leaned over her, "I knew you were beautiful..." Her mouth nipped and suckled a trail down her neck, to her chest, over the swell of her breast,  "I didn't know you'd be this sensitive..." She pressed a second finger inside the elf as her mouth wrapped around her nipple, catching it with her teeth as she suckled hard.

Sylvanas rolled her hips again, needy and shameless.  "I didn’t either, you flatterer..." she breathed. "You're... you're beautiful too.  I didn't want to think about it before, I didn't want to let you close, but... it's true..."

Jaina flushed, letting go of her prize to lean up and kiss Sylvanas again, fingers curling as they dragged in and out of her slowly, "Do you want to touch me?" 

She... She had to admit that she really wanted Sylvanas to touch her now.

Sylvanas dragged her closer, kissing down Jaina's neck eagerly.  Nuzzled at her breasts with a faint laugh, even through her mewling pleasures, then wrapped her lips around a nipple.  It was strange to feel that wet suction without the usual heat, but... Sylvanas's tongue was diligent and hungry.

Jaina, who'd been quiet and diligent until now breathed a small whimper. It took a little warming up before she'd get loud but she eagerly let Sylvanas have her. The human’s fingers continued their deliberately slow and forceful pace.

"You don't have to be gentle." Jaina groaned quietly, "Please, don't be gentle."

Those red eyes flicked up, then Sylvanas decided to take her at her word.  Her teeth sank in a little, adding a spice of pain to the suckling, her hips continuing to roll against the fingers penetrating her.  A hand moved over to twist and pull at the neglected nipple, the other hand grazing down her stomach meaningfully.

"A-ah! Yes... like that. Good..." Jaina bit her lip, breathing heavily as she pressed pulled her fingers out of Sylvanas. Instead of abandoning her though, she brought them back to the elf’s clit with a vengeance as reward, harsh circles with her two drenched fingers.

Sylvanas bucked against her fingers, head falling back with a small cry.  Shuddering, gazing up at Jaina needily. "I'm... I'm close..." she moaned.  "I want... I need..."

The Banshee Queen pulled herself together, bit her lip, took a deep breath out of habit.  Squirmed a little until she was lying down, licked her lips. "Your throne awaits, my consort," she breathed.

Jaina didn't understand at first, pausing her actions to sort it out. Then her face went rather pink... Embarrassment didn't last though as she laughed softly, "Well that's a line I haven't heard before."

She briefly kissed Sylvanas first before she pulled her fingers away fully, moving up the bed and turning around so that she faced down Sylvanas's body, carefully straddling her shoulders, balancing herself carefully.

Hands eagerly grasped and mauled at her butt for a moment, moved around to steady her hips.  Then her tongue nuzzled between Jaina's labia and pressed straight into her core, drinking in her heat and juices with a needy mewling sound.

Her fingers gripped the sheets on either side of Sylvanas's hips, "F... Fuck!" 

Oh god... Ok. She actually had some idea what she was-

Jaina gave a cry and ground down against her needily as her tongue pressed into something sensitive. No longer quiet, every breath came with a little noise of pleasure.

The undead woman kept it up.  Her tongue pulled out briefly, moved down and raked over her clit once, twice, three times, sealed her lips and suckled.  Then moved back up and inside her. Satisfied that Jaina wasn't going to move too much, she went back to squeezing and groping that butt.

The mage wasn't moving too much but her hips couldn't help rolling against the attention. Jaina being at her mercy didn't last terribly long however as the living woman suddenly slid down onto her elbows, wrapping her arms around Sylvanas's thighs to pull them wide apart again. Her teeth bit into her thighs harshly leaving a trail of bruising kisses along the muscle.

There was no hesitation before her tongue slid into the cooled, slick, flesh between her legs. Circling her clit before lapping at it far more aggressively. Though her sounds were now muffled she was far from quiet.

Fuck.  Sylvanas was glad she didn't need to breathe.  It meant she didn't have anything to distract her from eating out the woman with all of her talent and skill.

Until Jaina returned the favour, and she faltered a little, seeing stars.  She was determined to hold off, not to cum just yet, but... she wasn't sure she could manage it...

Jaina's thighs were trembling a little above her and while she was more consistent in her attack... Her moans were starting to sound more akin to sobs. She had to pull back to breathe, replacing her tongue with fingers and using her other hand to start fucking her wife far more intensely then before as she took ragged breaths, "Th-that's it.... Oh light... Sylvanas... Don't s-stop!"

It was more than just pleasure building... There was an odd kind of tingle encroaching, not unpleasant, but it had a familiar tug on her soul. It had to be the magic of the final rite.

Well... with that kind of voice and plea... it would be rude to stop.  So even as Sylvanas lost control and gave in, bucking and convulsing as orgasm flashed through her, she kept her tongue working as best she could.

It felt, even as the waves of pleasure sparked in her dead flesh, that a second one was building at the same time right on it’s heels. A bigger one.

Jaina gave a sudden cry above her and the world just seemed to explode in a burst of raw energy, casting her into an unconscious blackness.

There was a strange feeling of floating, like one experienced in a stupor. Not quite asleep, not really conscious. It faded slowly and she found herself standing amid a silent, dead, forest. The huge boughs above her were the ancient forests she’d grown up in. The shining forest of Eversong brought into the stillness and darkness of the grave. Tall and proud… But the light of the grave had been ripped away...

Wait. It wasn’t silent. There was faint music. Her music. Sylvanas’s lament. It filtered through the branches like a breeze.

And on the wind she could smell the unfamiliar brush of salt.

She slowly straightened up.  Looked around with a little sadness.

Yes, felt like home.  For better or worse. The old greenery... just didn't belong to her any more.

Slowly Sylvanas got to her feet, gazing around at this strange vista.  This… window into her soul. Brushing a hand over the dead bark, feeling the usual mix of feelings, the sadness and anger and comfort that the cursed woods brought to her.  
  
Then she turned.  Seeking out the song, and the unfamiliar scent.  Not entirely sure what she would find, but… having an instinct of _who_ she would find.

The song seemed to be guiding her through the trees, through the dark... The ancient forest stopped, but rather then a shoreline a wall of dark water stood before her, stretching in all directions, seemingly as endless as her forest. There was a figure just under the surface, her details obscured by the rippling water, but the silver-white hair made it clear who it was.

Sylvanas sighed, folding her arms.  "You know, Jaina, I was expecting something weird, but... getting hurled into whatever this is is ruining my ability to enjoy my first orgasm in years."

"Oh good it is actually you." The mage’s voice sounded a little echoing and distant, "The rites haven’t exactly been to how they’re written about… I thought something had gone wrong and I was in another dimension again." A pair of hands reached to the edge of the water. Jaina’s face looked a bit clearer as she got closer to the barrier, blue eyes looking her over interestedly.

"Does sex regularly hurl you into another dimension?" Sylvanas snarked, reaching out to the barrier herself.

"No. It'd be a first, but a tongue like that... I could definitely see it happening." Her side of the barrier seemed to have things swimming behind her, there was a shadow of something that even an elf’s eyes couldn’t make out… But Jaina didn’t seem worried. She was grinning faintly actually.

Their hands finally met but didn’t quite reach each other. There was a barrier between them still, a hair wide at most maybe... But it was keeping them apart.

"I promise I'll make it up to you, if you'd like. And now that the rite’s completed this… shouldn’t happen again." Jaina rested her forehead against the barrier.

Sylvanas hummed softly.  "I would be saddened if our first sex was the also the last," she said with a faint laugh.  "So I'll hold you to that."

"Good. You holding me has been... nice." She smiled a little sheepishly.

Patterns of light started to appear across the space between them. Some of the symbols were recognizable and some were completely foreign to her. High elven runes, twisting lines of some kind she didn't recognize, arcane mage circles, the runemarks of the scourge's undeath... All of it flashing between colors, yellow to green to purple to blue to red... the space between them hummed with intense power.

Neither of them could pull their hands away from the place the magic was emanating from.

Jaina looked up at it with both awe and alarm, “I’m not sure this is supposed to-”

With a rending sound the barrier burst. Wood and water smashed into each other, the shattered pieces of the barrier latched onto their skin and burned like a brand. Their hands were sealed together and Jaina screamed in pain in the maelstrom, their bodies being flung through the tidal-wave, battered against trees, scalded by magic.

Sylvanas didn't scream.  Pain... pain was an old friend.  Pain had been her constant companion for decades.

So she just pulled, pulled hard to get Jaina closer, wrapped her arms protectively around the woman, shielding her as best she could.

The Banshee could take it.

A cacophony of laments and roaring water enveloped them. Darkness seemed to envelope them entirely. And the crushing weight of the forest and the sea seemed intent on killing them...

Jaina held onto her and after her initial reaction to the pain seemed much in the same mindset. She could hold on, she could take it.

They'd make it through.  Together.

Something in Sylvanas’s chest... twitched. Painfully so. More than simply feeling the distant magical echo of Jaina’s pulse... The muscles in Sylvanas's chest woke up as if it was by her will to banish the whole lot of this.

Her dead heart gave one single, body-pulsing, beat.

She woke like no time had passed at all, like she’d simply been dreaming. Jaina was collapsed to the side of her, breathing heavily.

Sylvanas clutched her chest.  Twitching weakly. ‘ _Did my… did my heart just…’_

"Your heart?" Came Jaina’s confused groan, "What about your heart?"

If it had actually beat like her aching muscles suggested, it wasn't doing so now. But there was nothing she was feeling more acutely than Jaina's pulse. No. Not just her pulse...

 _They said it got intense but... Shit. Ok. That's... Different. I really don’t think this is normal. Something’s gone wrong._ Jaina's voice was clear in her head. The woman slowly sat up, looking at her arms were there were still fading patterns of magic across her skin.

Sylvanas’s eyes flicked over.  _Ok, either you gave me telepathy, or I'm still high on orgasm and magic and my imagination is more active than usual._

Jaina's head jerked up and she stared, ".... Did you just...?"

"My heart beat in that... magic... vision... thing, and now I can hear what you're thinking."  Sylvanas gave a tired smile. "Guess we'll have to trust each other now, we literally can't lie to each other."

Jaina grit her teeth, "That's... Um... Alright. That's definitely... A little abnormal. But considering the circumstances I suppose that's not the worst thing..." She paused thought, "You said.... Your heart beat? Are you feeling alright?"

"It was... unexpected."  She took a breath. "Probably just a metaphor or something.  Not like that was real. Just... an arcane vision of some kind."

Jaina watched the magic disappear on her skin and slowly lay back down, “It’s not… This isn’t normal. I’ve never read about anything like that. I… Have theories but I’m going to have to do some research obviously. But as long as we’re alive then… I suppose we can make this work.”

The elf crawled out, lay next to Jaina, kissed her softly.  "We're well and truly married now, I guess."

Jaina made herself take a deep breath to relax herself, "Can't be rid of me now."

The mage rolled towards Sylvanas so she could cuddled closer, "To be fair... You did tell me to make your heart beat."

"I did," the blue woman said with a chuckle.  "Excellent job. Congratulations."

 _Definitely worth pushing myself for…_ She thought to herself.  _Fuck you, Arthas, I got your girl.  Suck on that in whatever hell you're in._

There was a pause, Sylvanas could feel a kind of ripple of unhappiness that wasn’t her own, then Jaina spoke a little clipped, "... Please tell  me you didn't do this to get back at his ghost?”

Sylvanas blinked at her, then winced.  "No, of course not. It was just... a silly thought."  She sighed. "I have a lot of those. You'll get used to it, I suppose."

Jaina sighed and managed to make herself relax again, "I suppose I will." She leaned up, kissing Sylvanas briefly.

Sylvanas gently ran a hand along Jaina's cheek.  "You were right to run when you did, though," she said softly.  "If he'd caught you... you'd have been right there with me in my suffering.  He was obsessed. Only his ambition for power kept him on track with his plans."

Jaina frowned, "... If I hadn't run when I did he may never have picked up Frostmourne."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Someone would have claimed the blade eventually. And if not, perhaps Mal'ganis would have won and destroyed everything. All I know is what I saw."

Jaina's pulse shivered, worried against Sylvanas's mind, wanting to comfort, "... Do you want to talk about it?"

Sylvanas said nothing aloud.  Jaina caught flashes of conflicting emotions and scraps of unhappy thoughts.

"...do you think it would help?" the Warchief said finally in an oddly small voice.

"The worst that can happen is it doesn't." Jaina said gently, reaching up to cup Sylvanas's face, "But at least then I'll know and I might find ways to help when you need it."

_I want to help her.... Can anyone help with something like this though?_

"So you're finding I'm an even bigger smartass on the inside and I'm finding that you're a pessimist, great," Sylvanas said with a twist of dark humour.

Jaina flushed, "I'm worried for you! I'm not a pessimist. Are you telling me you weren't worried for me when I woke up screaming from a nightmare?"

Sylvanas shook her head.  "No. You're right. We're just... this whole sharing thoughts thing is going to take time."

She nodded, "It'll... be an adjustment But it'll be fine." She wrapped her arms around Sylvanas again and curled up under her chin.

"So... Do you want to talk about it?"

There was a long silence.

"...all right,” Sylvanas said quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this took a little while to get out... other things kind of got to us, and there were some rewrites needed. Hopefully you enjoyed and the delay was worth it!
> 
> From here on we'll be getting a bit more insight into their heads. Please let us know if the current thought formatting is unclear or confusing; it's one thing that hasn't translated so well from the original format, I think.
> 
> Next time... well, you get to see just what happened to Sylvanas between the fall of Silvermoon and her reappearance in Frozen Throne. Spoiler: it wasn't fun.


	10. Painful Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: The following chapter contains a non-graphic reference to sexual assault. Take care of yourselves, folks.

Sylvanas held her close.  "How much do you know about the invasion of Quel'thalas?"

"Not very much. I've seen some of the scar and loose iterations of your death... But that's about all. I only know what happened to Kael after."

"He came out of nowhere.  We'd isolated ourselves from Lordaeron for years, as you know, and then we suddenly had Prince Arthas on our doorstep with an army of undead.  I was on the front lines from the start, and I used every trick I could think of to slow or stop him."

 _I spent so many of my men and women.  Sent them off on suicide missions. Spent them like... arrows in the quiver._ It wasn't clear if she'd meant for Jaina to hear that.

Jaina didn't respond. She was hardly horrified. How many similar regrets did she have?

Many.

Instead she was silent and gently stroked Sylvanas's back.

"He always pushed through.  Slaughtered my runners. Destroyed our defences.  Broke the elfgate. Until we were right under the walls of Silvermoon, the city was unprepared, and I was bleeding soldiers.  I ran out of arrows, a ghoul pack knocked me down... and then there he was. Face to face."

The memory was so visceral that it flittered over the link.  Frostmourne descending. Sylvanas demanding a clean death. The agony of being torn from her flesh and becoming a banshee.

Jaina's grip on her wife tightened, jaw clenching at that distant feeling of agony, "The fact that you kept your sanity..."

"Some don't."  Sylvanas sighed.  "Being part of the Scourge is... cold.  Your mind is locked in an icy prison. You have free will, but... only within that prison.  It's a cruel, perverse form of stability. But Arthas wasn't done with me."

_"You've inconvenienced me, elf.  Greatly. You've obstructed me at every turn.  In payment, you will join me in the final assault on Silvermoon.  You will kill any that stand in our way. Man, woman or child. Do you understand, banshee?"_

_"Yes, Prince Arthas.  I understand."_

Jaina stilled, "... He made you-" She couldn't finish it.

"I personally ended the last of my rangers.  I took command of the banshees that he raised, and followed the shock troops, slaughtering dozens of my kin.  I can remember the faces of them when they recognised me."

Jaina hadn't known. She was aware of what Arthas was capable of, or rather, what the Lich King was capable of. Arthas's soul had little sway even towards the beginning. He had lingered in small ways... But not when it came to battle.

Actually, perhaps he had lingered in battle even. There had always been negatives to Arthas that Jaina never wanted to think about when she was young and then when he was dead. For a long time she blamed Frostmourne and the Legion entirely.

"Ironically I think it might have contributed to my power," Sylvanas admitted.  "Personally murdering a dozen powerful mages after the ghouls and skeletons had worn them down gave me... quite a boost.  He left me to finish breaking the spirit of the High Elves while he went south with Kel'thuzad, and... summoned the Legion.  I just... kept killing, kept getting stronger, until I figured out how to become corporeal again."

"... Not to sound rude but... Why do the blood elves still view you as a hero?" Jaina asked hesitantly.

"Because they figured out the game.  I couldn't tell them. I couldn't do anything to warn them, do anything but kill them when they got in my way.  But I was stupid. I was literal. They knew very well what I was capable of, so seeing me waste forces, ignore obvious outposts... they learned to just melt away."

Jaina felt... Oddly relieved. She wasn't entirely sure why.  "How did you break free of his control?"

"I didn't.  Not for a while.  You see, when the elves were well and truly scattered, and Silvermoon was a broken ruin, I marched south to rejoin the main Scourge army.  Arthas knew that I'd only obeyed the letter of his orders, he'd realised that the Legion considered him just a disposable toy... so he was in a foul mood.  Thus... well. He decided to take it out on what was left of my mind. And take advantage of my new corporeality."

 _... No,_ was all Jaina could think. She didn’t want to read into that. She didn’t want to jump to the conclusion her mind immediately went to, "What do you mean?"

"...it's how I know that I can have sex," the elf said awkwardly.  "And of course... the ice of the Scourge meant I couldn't even say no.  I could only scream in my head."

Jaina’s fingers tightened on Sylvanas' back.

What use did the weapon called the 'Lich King' have for such things? Surely none.

But Arthas had always been rather... Needy. Demanding. It's why she had been a meek lover for so long. He was her first and he had been both gentle and demandingly domineering with her.

Rationally she knew it was pointless for this to upset her. It was pointless to be angry. That she would be better served being calm and comforting. But bitter tears welled up and she pressed her face against Sylvanas's chest, clutching her. It wasn't hard for her memories of Arthas to turn into imaginings of what his Lich King influenced behavior might have looked like.

Sylvanas was... oddly cold as she continued.  Seemingly talking about this as though discussing the weather.

"I think that's when I really did go insane," she said after a moment.  "Arthas left for Kalimdor, you banished the Legion, Illidan used the Eye of Sargeras to attack the Lich King and injured him... and the Scourge started breaking down.  I shattered the ice around my mind, and used my leverage over the banshees to help bring them out as well. Tried to kill Arthas, but Kel'thuzad saved him, and then both left. Arthas for Northrend, Kel went to Naxxramas and watched Lordaeron burn as the Nathrezim Scourge and the proto-Forsaken tore each other to bits.  The rest is history. I didn't... I didn't really stop being a complete monster until Arthas died."

Sylvanas clenched her fists convulsively.  "And I didn't even get to be there. Or have any say in putting someone else in that stupid throne."

"I wasn't either... But I'd have given up my right to put him to rest to give that to you." There was a distinct anger in Jaina’s mostly calm tone... And there was no hiding the wash of fury she felt inside.

It made her think of Garrosh in a way. The fact that she was not there to finish him. That it was Thrall instead... She'd regretted it. And she'd severed ties with her old friend partly because of it. If she had deserved to strike down Garrosh, Sylvanas' had deserved to have the same with Arthas. Maybe that was selfish, considering both men had hurt so many...  But feelings weren’t always rational.

The Warchief sighed softly.  "Of course, at that point I'd made my bed.  Garrosh ruled the Horde and despised me, using me to do all the dirty work.  I was feeling spiteful and bitter towards the living and the Alliance, and my priority shifted from vengeance on Arthas to... defending my people.  And the rest… well, the rest is history."

There was a moment of silence and then... Sylvanas sobbed.  Holding herself together while telling the story and now... collapsing.

That shocked the mage out of her anger immediately. Careful as she could she moved up so that Sylvanas could rest against her instead. She didn't shush the dead woman or try and sooth it away, but she did hold her, feeling her pain intensely through their connection, "I'm sorry Sylvanas... I'm so sorry."

There were no tears, the dead don't cry, but Sylvanas still shuddered, wracked with sorrow and trauma and pain.  Clutching onto Jaina tightly, nuzzling in and seeking comfort.

"I have you, love. I'm here." Jaina pressed gentle kisses to her hay-colored hair, ran her fingers over her cold back, wrapped a leg around hers... Anything she could do to be closer and more comforting.

Sylvanas clutched on. Letting the emotions wash through her. Years of pain unexpressed.

But a thought was banging on her door aggressively. And she swallowed down the sobs, slowly raising her head. "...what did you just say?"

Jaina's worried expression tilted in confusion, "I said I'm here? I've got you." She grimaced worriedly, "Would you rather I leave?" 

 _I thought she called me 'love'... no, I must have imagined it._ The Banshee cuddled up again. Clutched tightly. "If you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you," she mumbled.

Jaina flushed red as her insides squirmed awkwardly and she tried to think about anything else that did not involve the word. "O-of course. Why not start the fourth war because someone admitted to you needing a hug?"

It was just a term of endearment where she came from, damnit!

"I don't need stupid orcs asking if I'm going soft," Sylvanas groaned. But she managed a small chuckle. "I'm already going to get funny looks if I start showing hickeys."

"I could challenge them?” Jaina suggested teasingly, relaxing again, “Show dominance so that they understand why you're getting hickies?”  That... definitely implied more sex. And biting.   _Mmm... biting…_

Sylvanas laughed again. "That'd be a sight." She took a slow breath, rolled on to her back. "Thank you. For listening."

Jaina moved after her a little, wrapping her arms back around Sylvanas's waist as she laid her head on the woman's shoulder, "You're welcome. From experience it won't fix it... But it does help. Like lancing an infected wound."

Sylvanas stared up at the ceiling for a while. Trying to process, find some calm. Deal with… everything that had just happened.

Then she sat up sharply as three ghostly, armoured and winged figures loomed over the bed. "This had better be good!" she snarled.

"Your soul shifted. We were concerned," the lead Val'kyr said bluntly.

Cold had filled the air as the mage raised a hand, the lances of ice she relied on condensing over her palm at the sudden intrusion… But she almost as immediately banished them when she realized what the interruption was. Jaina _really_ had to get a better reflex then 'use magic to destroy' when things startled her these days.

But could you blame her? She'd spent most of the last year fighting the Legion on her own.

And she was jumpy before that.

Luckily the mage’s second reaction was to drag the covers over the two of them for modesty, "Your mistress just got married to a mage, of course her soul is going to have shifted." She tried not to sound as irritated or embarrassed as she was.

Sylvanas’s eyes narrowed, and she pointed sharply.  “Out!” she snapped.

"You don't understand," the Val'kyr said with a calmly irritable tone, "Your soul has been split and remoulded. Our binding to you is now a binding to Lady Proudmoore also."

Jaina stared, dumbfounded, "... What?"

Sylvanas looked thoughtful. Internally she was fighting sudden panic. Her expansion of the Forsaken, her harvesting of graveyards, even her ability to resurrect... if Jaina objected to any of it, she might be able to stop it.

"We'll discuss the ramifications later," she said with an outwardly bored tone. "For now, get out of my bedroom."

The Val'kyr faded.

Jaina eyed her wife briefly, feeling that internal turbulence, but let her head drop back onto the mattress, "... Alright. Unforeseen consequences. But at least your pact with them remains?"

Sylvanas reacted poorly to threats. If Jaina was calm and didn’t make this a huge deal her wife might relax again.

Sylvanas nodded, sighed. Squirmed to cuddle up. "...they might see it as their duty to raise you now unless you actively order them not to," she said reluctantly.

"... I hope you mean if I die?" said Jaina.  _Hadn't Genn said something about her only having so many left? Something about Eyir?_

"Yes." Sylvanas shook her head. "They don't kill unless pressed into a battle."

The elf grimaced a little. "And... yes. I only have those three, and no way to make more. Genn destroyed the only shot I had at that."

Jaina blinked, then sighed, "Right. Sorry. It just... Popped into my head. He told us about your attempt to subjugate her..."

"There's no one else who could care for and lead the Forsaken," she said simply.  "If I were to die, they would die out - quite apart from relying upon the Val’kyr to reinforce our numbers.  And we aren't... weren't... short on enemies."

Jaina gently took one of her hands, lacing their fingers together, "Well... now things are different."

"Things _will_ be different," Sylvanas corrected.  "We have a peace treaty and we got married.  Actually changing anything will take time."

On that... Jaina could agree.  "We _can_ change it now, though. Together."

"Yes," the undead woman said softly.  "We will."

***

By the end of her first week, Undercity seemed to be growing on Jaina. It was like the third rite had made the underground, the slime, the omnipresent scent of death, just... that little bit more homely in a strange way. Or at least less foreign to her.  Certainly the locals had stopped staring quite so much. They weren't exactly welcoming, but... as Sylvanas had said, change took time. The Forsaken were used to viewing living humans as enemies.

The Val'kyr, meanwhile, had rather casually adopted her.  Giant undead warrior women who didn’t care if she was breathing or not. As far as they were concerned she was the wife of the queen and that was good enough.  The Dark Rangers seemed to feel similarly. 

It was one thing to know about the Forsaken's almost cult-like devotion to Sylvanas, and it was another to see it in action.

Nathanos remained locked away.  Sylvanas seemed to be putting off dealing with him for as long as she could.  Suffering a lot of complex feelings. But stray thoughts and odd conversations were increasingly suggesting that her former lieutenant had had a lot of influence over her, and encouraged her worst tendencies. Based on what she knew of how Sylvanas reacted to things Jaina had opted to hold back. Nathanos was locked away, Sylvanas was processing… And if Jaina forced the issue like she’d wanted to initially it could push her wife too hard too fast.

It was, in it’s own way, good practice for Jaina to hold her temper. She was likely going to need to be able to do that, one way or another.

Being by Sylvanas's side also let her see the funny little things.  The bits of character in the Horde that blurred away in opposition, something she’d almost forgotten in the long years of conflict. The champions of the Horde were… almost the same as the champions of the Alliance, just with a different background. But they could be just as amusing to watch as they sorted out what to do with this new peace.  These were all just... people.

As for Sylvanas herself... the Dark Lady relaxed.  It was getting easier to see when the endless snark was covering deeper feelings, and when she was just being an ass (which was regularly).  She was troubled, and who wouldn't be after her history, but... underneath the attitude and ruthlessness, she cared deeply about her people and would do anything to defend them.

And there was a surprising amount of time spent in the bedroom.  The Banshee might have had a more passive role the first time, but she quickly warmed up to it, and seemed fond of subtle teasing and innuendo to build up anticipation throughout the day.  She seemed just as happy on her knees as pinning Jaina to a wall.

It didn’t help that basically any time either woman had a coherent thought about the other’s body their moods would feed into each other’s thoughts until _something_ had to be done about it or they wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else.

Jaina had been intentionally trying to acclimatize herself, to the undead, to her position, to Sylvanas herself. It... wasn't going half bad to be honest. But being able to see past the Banshee Queen's top layer of armor made it so much easier than it might otherwise have been.

The rather intense sex helped as well. She'd all but buried the squeamishness about undeath with her first dive between Sylvanas's legs... although she still hadn’t asked about the ice thing. Better to warm up to that.

Pun unintended.

The week had passed before the mage realised it.  A far greater delay in leaving or speaking to Anduin than she’d anticipated, although she’d been rather vague about timescales... but this strange, undead isolation couldn’t last forever. The Alliance was likely getting antsy.

She told Sylvanas the morning of her seventh day in Undercity, "I'll be in Stormwind probably most of the day. I might stay the night if I decide to sort out who the human liaison will be. It depends on if Anduin has a short list for me yet."

Sylvanas sighed.  Reluctant to let the woman go, but… aware that the honeymoon had to end.  "Very well," she said. "You know where I am if you need anything."

_Wish I could see Anduin's face when he sees those bitemarks..._

"If I'm not back by tonight I'll be here tomorrow morning." She tugged at her collar with a flush, "... I think I'll wear something more covering."

"Are you ashamed of how good a time you've been having?" Sylvanas said, deadpan, although her thoughts gave away that she was teasing.

"I'd rather not have to answer questions about it." Jaina grumbled, "You're enjoying this too much, Windrunner."

"’Why do I have bite marks?  My wife's an enthusiastic lover.’  There, done." The elf smirked a little, looking like the proverbial cat.

The mage gave a long suffering sigh, "Fine. You get to deal with Anduin demanding to know if you're being too rough with me and prying into our marriage."

"My dear Jaina, you know how much I love winding Anduin up,” Sylvanas said, stretching languidly.

"And how much will you love him winding _me_ up?" Jaina objected.

"Will it result in you taking your frustration out on me?" Sylvanas quipped back.

"It will result in me avoiding you and your damn teeth," Was the irritated response.

"You're no fun."  Sylvanas stretched, kissed her playfully, sat up.  "Very well. I'll see you tomorrow."

 _No fun? That's hardly what you were squealing last night…_ Jaina got up quickly, going to pull on her clothes. She'd eat in Stormwind.

Sylvanas paused pulling her own pants on to swat Jaina’s rear.  "Very funny."

Jaina yelped and then scowled at her, but there wasn’t much heat in it.

"I'll return." The mage finished attaching her cloak and held out a hand, portal pulling open before her, "I'll tell Anduin hello for you."

Then she stepped through.

The mage got a brief glimpse of Sylvanas blowing a kiss, then she was in the throneroom of Stormwind.  The guards leaping to attention. "Lady Proudmoore! Are you... well?"

She pulled her braid back over her shoulder, "Fine, thank you captain. Where is Anduin?"

"Taking breakfast, ma'am.  Shall I escort you to him?"

"Please, I could do with something to eat." She was... mostly covered. It’d do. Her braid was covering the bruise that was under her ear, too high up for a collar to properly hide anyway.

The soldier led her through the palace, to a little chamber overlooking the city.  Anduin shot to his feet with a concerned look. "Au- Jaina! I was getting worried!  Thank you, captain."

The guard saluted and left.

Jaina smiled, a little relieved she hadn't found him with Genn demanding him to be in the war room, "I'm sorry, it took a little longer than I expected. Am I too late for breakfast?"

"No, of course not.  Sit, join me. Where have you been?  How have you been?" Anduin’s boyish smile and cheerful enthusiasm was a nice change from Undercity’s aura of permanent gloom.

The mage happily sat to the smell of eggs and sausages. Undercity might have food she could eat but it hadn't been quite as fresh or good.

"Mostly in the Undercity. Before you start losing your mind let me be clear; I am fine.  It took a little longer than I was expecting because the magic of the rites interacted rather... intensely with Sylvanas. She's been nothing but gracious."  And sarcastic and...

Oh.

She... Couldn't feel Sylvanas anymore. Or hear anything.

They must be too far apart.

Which meant Sylvanas couldn't feel her either.

This was... distressing.  She knew, rationally, it would be. A piece of her soul was literally back in Undercity and it drove home just how sideways their rites really had gone… That was probably why she felt as awful as she did at the realization. Not that she’d grown _that_ attached to Sylvanas already.

It was only years of experience that kept her face mostly straight.

"Gracious? Sylvanas Windrunner?  Are we talking about the same woman?" Anduin said, trying to keep the mood light.

Jaina snorted, "Alright, she's been occasionally sulky when I didn't back down and rather snarky half the time but she's treating me well and... This might really work Anduin." She... wasn't sure she wanted to mention the assassination attempt yet. Not until it’d been dealt with.

Anduin studied her for a moment.  "Well, you're still alive, so... that's good," he said with a smile.  "I've been struggling to wrangle Genn. But things have largely been quiet here.  I think that the naysayers are just waiting for the shoe to drop."

Jaina paused for a moment. "Trust me. I was as well."

She thought it had when her limbs had gone cold...

"But... My bond to Sylvanas is... " She struggled to put it in words that a non-mage would understand, "As I said, the Rites reacted a little oddly with Sylvanas. Not surprising considering her state as a semi-constant magical being at this point. Not to mention the undeath. In a normal mages's marriage the couple is bound together but... It's like two gardens next to each other with a fence. There's a barrier between even if you can see and speak freely between the two places. Ours is the same except... No fence. Two yards but... Grown into each other a bit on one edge. Does that make any sense? It does seem to dim with distance though, which, I should have suspected considering that's normal for the binding rites..." She was scooping eggs, sausages, muffins, jam, herring, all onto her plate.  Apparently she was _very_ hungry.

Never mind that the truth was actually a bit more complicated and… severe then she was letting on, but she hated keeping the truth from Anduin. This was as close to a compromise as she could make.

The young man frowned,  looking concerned again.  "...I'd be careful who you say that to.  Genn would probably take that to mean that you're compromised and Sylvanas has brainwashed you."

Jaina groaned, "Don't think I'm not aware. But that's hardly what it is or how this magic works. It's not a connection that can bind the will or the body. Only the soul." She glanced over at him, "And I'm not telling him, I'm telling _you_ because you are my nephew and my king... And I do feel a little bad I couldn't come to tell you I was alright sooner."

Anduin nodded.  "I'll be keeping an eye on you," he said, half-joking.  Paused. "...what's it like? In her head?"

The mage paused to contemplate her answer.

"... Stressful." She admitted after a quiet moment, "She cares deeply about her people and the Horde and worries constantly about their survival. She's just as cunning and ruthless as you'd expect but... There's more to her. A lot more. She wants to care for her people but worries about becoming another Arthas."

Jaina chewed a muffin thoughtfully, "... And she can be surprisingly sweet. She isn't just treating this arrangement as a means to an end or something she's enduring. She had opportunities to simply let me take care of myself and she... didn't. She stayed. It's like I said. I think this partnership can actually work out. I just might start hoping again at this rate." She snorted as she tucked into her breakfast properly.

"I can't imagine the food's been too good," the King remarked, noting her evident hunger.  "Still, you seem in better spirits than I could've hoped for. So... I'll take that as a good sign."

"Well, there's food I can eat just fine, it's just mostly things that are pickled and cured and... Well, there's the occasional fruit but honestly the Forsaken can't do a breakfast to save their lives." Jaina paused, squinting, "Deaths? Unlives? Anyway... Yes. I'm fine, this is delicious, the first order of business is to get some trade going so I can have some decent food while I'm there.  Silvermoon can only export so much." She chuckled, obviously joking. Good mood? Yeah. She was in a surprisingly good mood.

"On a serious note though,” she continued, “The honeymoon is over. I'm going to need a shortlist of those you think would be a good fit to be liaison for your people."

"Of course."  Anduin smiled.  "You really are hopeful, aren't you?  I don't remember the last time I heard you laugh.  The real question is where we want to send these liaisons to.  If they just stayed in their home cities then there wouldn't be much point, but I don't think anyone would be too keen on going to a Horde city.  Too unbalanced."

"Of course,” Jaina replied. “Currently I plan to make the _Proudmoore_ the first meeting place, but I won't be sending anyone there until I've gotten all the representatives I need. They'll also have to be able to come back to their homes regularly to confer with, say, you and the populace. A more permanent solution will need to be sorted but for now... My ship has the space and the lack of use."

Anduin nodded.  "It'll do for now.  I've had a few people trying to get my support for the position.  Notably Calia."

The mage sighed, "Yes, I did have a feeling that would come up." She pushed her plate away, "Why didn't you tell me she was alive?"

Anduin looked uncomfortable.  "...honestly because I didn't know for a long time.  She barely survived the third war and was in hiding for years until she met Alonsus Faol - remember him?  Since then she's been his assistant."

"Uther's old mentor?" She frowned, but shook her head, "I'm not convinced her involvement would be a good idea. Remember the whole 'no threats to power' bit?"

"I agree," he said.  "But she'll keep trying to find a way in to the Forsaken.  Do you think you could persuade Sylvanas to be a little less hostile?"

"... Possibly.” Jaina sighed.  “I need to speak to Calia in any case."

Anduin nodded.  "There's also the question of your wedding."

She frowned in confusion, "... My wedding?"

"I've discussed it with a few people, and... you signed a piece of paper and went through the rites.  Which I don't really know much about aside from them being a private thing. But an actual public ceremony would do a lot to raise public trust in the whole thing."

"A public... You want to have an actual... Wedding?"  Oh. Ok. Yeah. That sounded like a great-

WHAT?

"That's... That could take months to plan and sort out. And a lot could go wrong." And she'd have to wear a dress probably and there would be official invitations and announcements and where the hell would they even host it? And...

And...

Her side of any isle wouldn't have her family in it.

Just Anduin.

Her panic suddenly died and the tired expression that she'd had before all this returned.

"We can figure it all out," Anduin said. His concerned look was back. "What's wrong, Jaina?"

"... Hmm?" She pulled herself out of her revery, then shook her head, "It's nothing important. Let's talk about your brilliant public relations strategies later and focus on what we can do _now._ Who besides Calia would you put on the list for me to speak to?"

***

There were a number of people to go through. Jaina decided to leave Calia to last, suspecting that it might be… difficult.  But soon enough, her other interviews were done, and it was time to go see the woman she'd once called 'sister'

Calia Menethil was quietly sitting in the gardens. An old book in her hands, seemingly a tome of kal’dorei poetry. She seemed to be struggling with the Darnassian script, but she looked up sharply as Jaina approached. A movement that spoke of hard won instinct.

She relaxed upon seeing who it was, and smiled a little sadly. "Jaina."

"Calia." There was no smile on Jaina’s face. This woman's mere existence strained her now for some reason.

She wished she could pin it on her connection to Sylvanas... But she'd felt it before that had ever come into being, "I'd say we all thought you were dead, but I suspect you're getting tired of hearing that." She stood a little ways away from the bench, unsure if she wanted to approach or not.

Calia’s smile faded. "I spent a long time thinking everyone was dead."

Jaina hadn't come here to catch up or reminisce. "Anduin says you'd like to be his liaison to me."

A flicker of hurt passed through Calia's eyes, followed by resignation. "Yes. I would."

"Why?"

"Because I care about humanity,” the princess of Lordaeron said. “All of it, living and dead. The Third War was a long time ago, nobody's left who really cares about Lordaeron. Not really. Not on our side. I want peace and happiness for everyone."

"And that made you believe that declaring you were going to 'rescue' the Forsaken was going to help peace?" Jaina did her best to keep her tone in check.

Calia stood sharply.  A sudden edge in her voice that could have been frustration, anger or desperation. "I wanted to put those families back together," she snapped.

"But the repercussions of your actions would have torn them and every other family on Azeroth apart,” Jaina responded coldly, "You were happiest caring for your daughter and staying out of the way of your father and brother. You can’t just expect to jump in to this with good intentions and get the results you want. That gets people killed."

"She's dead," Calia said, suddenly just as cold.

The mage’s mouth opened to ask who but… Then it clicked and Jaina's jaw tightened, feeling at least a little shame, "... I'm sorry."

"As is my husband,” Calia continued. “And my father. And my brother, only a monster came back wearing his skin. I was there when the capital fell. I lay in a ditch, covered in mud and blood for days until the ghouls moved on. I understand death, Jaina Proudmoore."

Jaina felt her blood rise angrily and tried to swallow it down. Put it to the side.

"Ask anyone on the streets of Stormwind over the age of twenty, Calia. Everyone understands death. Everyone was touched by Arthas, or the Horde, or the Legion. I am sorry your family is gone, but good intentions do not save the world. It leads to more fighting and more death. If I were to consider you for the position it would have to be under the _guarantee_ that you wouldn't break the peace that is the _only_ thing standing between the future and a real and likely _final_ Fourth War.  As liaison you'd be responsible for speaking for the people of Stormwind and Anduin. Not the Forsaken. You would have no say in what happens to them or the Undercity. Your place would be here or wherever we are meeting. Is that something you want?"

"I made an impulsive call,” Calia said, her tone softer. “But nobody believed war could be avoided. I don't want to ruin that now. I'll do whatever is needed of me."

Jaina turned to stare down the other woman, "Would you go before Sylvanas Windrunner and bend on knee to apologize for your outburst? Would you swear that you will not seek the Lorderon throne?"

"Yes," Calia said without hesitation.

"This only happens if Windrunner agrees. She may have other demands. If I deem them fair then I will expect you to adhere to them. Do you agree?"

The princess nodded. "I will happily talk to her. If you believe she is the right leader for the Forsaken, I have no reason to cause a problem."

"I'm not giving you the position until Sylvanas agrees. I will need to talk to her.”  Jaina said firmly, but the anger slowly faded, " But... I know you will listen to everyone who comes to you."

How many times had Calia done the same for her? So very long ago… In a way, her reaction to Calia was much like her first reaction to the reclaimed furniture in Sylvanas’s rooms. It reminded her of painful things. It made her remember times she failed and was failed by others… That wasn’t all Calia’s fault. She didn’t regret what she’d said but she regretted letting this get to her so deeply.

"You could be a fine liaison. I'll let you know what is decided," she said quietly, starting to turn away again. She just wanted to go home now.

No. She wanted to go to the Undercity.

"Could you tell Anduin that I've left, but I'll be in touch? I still have a lot of work to do and I don't want this taking up too much time before I can sort out the other representatives."

"Of course."  Calia had a very familiar expression. One she'd seen in the mirror a lot. The emptiness of one who has lost much, and can find little solace.  A surface calm, with a sea of pain below.

Jaina hesitated... But what could she say? What did they have to talk about? Loss? She had no interest in being vulnerable to this woman like she was as a girl.

It was Calia she'd opened up to just a little about Arthas's... aggressiveness and the hesitations it was giving her. It was Calia who's only advice was to talk to him about it. At the time it made perfect sense. It was completely reasonable. But now in hindsight felt...

Not a betrayal. Not that intense. Just... a failing. One that, given what she had learned from Sylvanas, had colored her perception of the woman’s judgement in hindsight.

Jaina opened the portal without another word and stepped through... But not to Sylvanas's chambers. It was instead into the dead forest that surrounded Undercity. Giving the briefest glance to make sure she was out of sight, she suddenly and violently let her magic go on a poor unsuspecting tree, not just felling it but ripping it apart with a mixture of fire and ice.

_‘I know death, Jaina Proudmoore.’_

She pulverized the stump for good measure, ignoring the strange, niggling feeling in the back of her mind. Everything was ignored in her anger at the presumptuous words. Self-centered words. As if no one else had suffered. As if suffering made you qualified for understanding everything. When Jaina was young, Calia was like the sister she’d never had, and now she was a ghost of the past that could threaten Jaina’s last chance for her life and suffering to have meant _anything._  
  
No, it was that she threatened the peace of the world. The people that could be eradicated… This wasn’t about Jaina. This couldn’t be about any of them. That was the whole point.

Right?

"That's some rage, my lady." came a cool voice from behind her. A Forsaken; no a Dark Ranger, and a familiar one.  Hawkspear. "Vegetation doesn't do it for me, but to each their own."

"Better then taking it out on something that can feel." Jaina felt the angry tension ebb a little as did the dark thoughts as she straightened and hoped she wasn’t about be told off.  She fixed her braid, "I apologize if I alarmed anyone."

Hawkspear shook her head. "It's a dull patrol, usually, thank you for livening it up.” The Dark Rangers, especially those she had been talking to somewhat regularly, had this kind of dance between respect, interest, and disregard. They didn’t treat her with the reverence they did Sylvanas but also without the distrust and disdain they usually showed for the living.

Jaina cleared her throat, regarding the eviscerated and pulverized tree, “You’re welcome, I think.”

"What should I write in my report about this... arcane explosion?"

Jaina chewed on that for a moment before looking back at Hawkspear, "... The Warchief's wife was feeling in the mood for some gardening?"

The ranger gave a dry chuckle. "Got it. I'll leave you to your gardening, my lady."

"I think I'm finished, actually. I'll be on my way." Jaina smiled faintly in return, she raised her hand, opening a portal, "Goodnight, Hawkspear." 

She stepped through to their- erm... Sylvanas's quarters. Violent outbursts were assuaged at least... Though she couldn't help feeling like more aggression was in order…

But that depended on Sylvanas's mood.

... She did _not_ rush back here just to fuck her wife. Jaina needed to talk to her. That was the reason. Nothing more or less. They both had work to do!

The moment her mind calm she felt that niggling feeling finally click into place. The connection. She could feel Sylvanas again. Not here in the rooms, elsewhere in the city. But it was still soothing.

She felt the spark of happiness that wasn’t her own as Sylvanas realised she was back.

The creeping, almost painful tension Jaina’d been carrying in her shoulders and stomach released as she felt the bond sink back into place.

She sat down heavily, the relief was so intense she actually felt a little off balance and had to catch her breath.

_I'll need to speak with you when you're free. I'm going to have a bath._

No, Undercity wasn’t home… But her soul was very certain that home was now wherever Sylvanas Windrunner was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A pretty heavy chapter. Sylvanas is going to have to put the pieces of her wife back together... but what's she been up to while Jaina has been out and about? Next chapter gives the first hints of the real grand plot of Twilight Gods... all to look forward to...


	11. Don't Be Gentle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To our dear less sexual readers: there's a lot of banging in this chapter, although it's a little more... emotionally fraught and ties into some Issues. Enjoy.

Jaina felt a spark of curiosity from Sylvanas, trying to decipher what she was feeling from the mage. 

_ Just finishing an interrogation. I'll come join you after, _ the Banshee Queen sent.  A flash of blood and pain filtering through, neither belonging to the Forsaken woman, only observed.

_ Interrogation? _ Jaina questioned with a frown, looking up from where she’d had to sit. Just who did she have to interrogate right now? Nathanos?

No. Sylvanas had been avoiding her former right-hand-man like the plague. That didn’t bode well.

The Banshee offered no response.  Seemingly busy with her victim rather than ignoring the question.

That agitated. A paranoid part of her mind wanted to go find Sylvanas and demand a response, to know exactly what she was doing. Which would probably lead to a fight. She supposed that her distrust wasn’t completely washed away but… It was calmed by what she knew of Sylvanas.

At the very least, the Warchief wouldn’t be so obvious if she was torturing someone from the Alliance, surely.

Jaina got up, brushing off her emotional response as she left the room. She greeted the ranger guards with a nod on her way out, heading up towards the baths. Much like she was doing with the Nathanos situation, she was keeping herself 

There was a kind of... charm to Undercity once you got used to it. Yes, corpses everywhere but... There was quite a lot of the place that was surprisingly colorful and alive.

For certain definitions there of.

Even the abominations could be... weirdly sweet at times. Sure, they were hulking and grotesque monstrosities, but if you watched them go about their day, they had a kind of endearing dopiness. She'd even seen one get a pat on the head for doing a good job.

The peace and heat of the bath was as lovely as always, washing away her aches and sufferings. Although that tranquility was being disturbed by her wife; she could feel a malicious glee from Sylvanas that implied the elf was enjoying her job a little more than she ought to.

Definitely not Nathanos, then.

It was rather... distracting actually. How was she supposed to be thoughtful and calm in her approach to these things when  _ this _ is what she had to deal with? At least with the traitorous lieutenant Sylvanas had tried very hard not to think about him.

_ I really hope whatever you're doing is worth it, _ came an irritated thought as the mage sank into the water deeper.

_ Jealous? _ came the teasing reply from Sylvanas.

_ If I wanted you to torture me I'd tell you,  _ Jaina thought. _ Who the hell are you interrogating during peacetime anyway? _

_ Peace with the Alliance, _ Sylvanas pointed out. _ Not everyone else. _

"...Fair enough." Jaina sighed aloud, staring up at the ceiling. It was easy to forget sometimes that there was more than just the Horde and Alliance in the world...

That didn’t make this any more comfortable… So how did she make it stop?

Well, her wife was fond of ruthless tactics, right?

The mage reached up towards her own chest, plucking at her own nipples harshly, sending a shiver of pleasure down to her core, pleased that the immediate sensation pushed away Sylvanas’s thoughts of her ‘work’.   _ Well, if you're busy then I'll just see to matters myself. _

The response was instant, the echoes of sensation resonating through their link.  _ Unfair! _

_ You're busy,  _ Jaina replied. _ I understand. _

This was so childish. Like she was a teenager acting out for attention.

She wanted Sylvanas's attention? That's what this was about? Not the torture?

Maybe a little. Probably both. 

... Was she just looking for comfort where she could find it again? Was this Kalecgos but... even more?

The claws of a night filled with her doing nothing but thinking about her history and being morose was there, looking for purchase in her mind but… It'd been a long day. She'd think about it tomorrow. For right now she trailed her fingers down her body, to her thighs, sliding the pad of her middle finger along her slit.

_ You obviously have more important things to do. I'm a big girl, I can see to myself. _

Sylvanas didn't immediately respond in coherent thoughts, but she had evidently made some kind of decision.  _ Be careful what you wish for, _ she said after a minute. She was on her way.

Jaina had half a mind to stop before she got any bigger a reaction out of Sylvanas than she already had... But she didn't. She wasn't even sure what she was after at this point, she'd gotten what she wanted.

Instead she sank a finger into herself, sighing and closing her eyes briefly.  _ I didn't wish for anything. I was just stating the facts. _

She pressed the palm of her hand against her clit, not exactly direct stimulation, but a pleasant pressure that made her bite her lip.

A few minutes later, the Banshee Queen burst in. There was still blood on her from whatever poor soul she'd been working over, and her expression was a mixture of excitement and annoyance.

It really showed Jaina’s proclivities that the blood was less stomach turning than it was exciting. She hadn't exactly risen above intensely teasing herself, but she pulled her hands away as she leaned back against the edge, arms back to prop her up, "You can be annoyed if you want, wife, but it's not like I can just turn off my connection to you."

Sylvanas began unbuckling her armour. "You're after attention and doing all you can to get it. I'm not stupid, Jaina."

"If I was doing all I could to get it I'd have found you and kicked the door in," the mage shot back. Outwardly she grinned cheekily... But beyond the excitement for what was to come she...

She was a little surprised at just how glad she was to see Sylvanas.

Sylvanas stripped off the last of her clothes, slid into the water with a bloom of red. Looking over Jaina, studying her for a moment.

"...what happened?" She asked suddenly.

Jaina's cocky smile faltered, "Happened? With Anduin? Nothing. It went about as I expected. Can we talk about it later?"

Cold fingers cupped her cheek. "We've played and teased before, but something's different,” Sylvanas said quietly. “And you came back early."

Jaina leaned into the touch slightly. It was only natural to do so.

"I'd finished what I'd gone there to do. I checked in with Anduin and..." She'd been about to say that nothing happened but... Fine, if they were going to talk now then... Might as well, "I spoke with Calia. She was asking about being a representative for Stormwind."

Sylvanas stiffened slightly. "And?"

"We argued. I told her that if she wanted it so badly she'd have to come here, bow down and ask your forgiveness for what happened at the gathering. That and swear she was forfeiting the crown of Lorderan. I told her only if you agreed would I let her take the position. She agreed to that and any other reasonable demands you might have."

Sylvanas considered this. "Good. And?"

Jaina blinked, "... And? And what?"

"What's bothering you?" her wife asked softly.

The human woman gave Sylvanas a flat look, "You mean besides the fact that you got blood in my bath  _ and _ you're not manhandling me?"

Those red eyes glinted.  _ Oh. I get it. _

"So this is it? You return ahead of schedule, interrupt my work, intentionally distract me from my duty in defence of the Horde? You lie here and demand my attention? You want me to punish your insolence? To treat you how you deserve?"  Despite the playful words, there was a serious edge to her thoughts.

Jaina’s grin returned, "What gave it away?"  _ Finally... _

Sylvanas captured her mouth in a hungry kiss, brushing a hand along her cheek. "Very well," she said simply.

Jaina relaxed against it, wrapping an arm around Sylvanas's waist as she kissed back. This is exactly what she needed... This would help.

The banshee pulled back, kissing along her jawline, suckled on an earlobe. Usually she'd be at the biting by now. Sylvanas liked biting.

Jaina tilted her head away, trying to invite that in, sighing, "Tired?"

"A little. Naga are hard to torture." Her hands moved up, teasing at Jaina's nipples. "Why?"

"You're acting kind of lazy." Naga? She’d ask later. Jaina pressed forward into the teasing, looking for more as she wrapped a hand into Sylvanas's hair, tugging at it imploringly.

"Am I?" Sylvanas hummed. Her knee pressed forward, grinding slowly into Jaina, her every motion and action seemingly a tease. A kiss, a gentle squeeze of a nipple, a slow brush of a cheek.

"You are," Jaina groaned, more in irritation than anything, even as her breathing hitched, "You... You don't need to be gentle."

Why was that even in question?

"I know." Sylvanas sounded aggravatingly calm. Didn't change her tactics. Her surface thoughts hard to draw upon.

"Oh, I get it," the mage growled, "You're trying to punish me?"  She suddenly twitched as those teasing fingers brushed over her nipples again, "Sylvanas!"

"I'm giving you what you deserve," Sylvanas hummed.  Dipped her head below water and enveloped a nipple with her mouth, the warm water making up for cold flesh. Her long ears could still hear fine, of course. Not needing to breathe was weird.

Jaina was breathing a little harder, it felt good but was... incredibly unnerving. Not the lack of breathing. But the insistent gentleness. The comment about deserving.

"S-stop. Sylvanas... Stop being gentle."

The elf resurfaced, her touch firmer now but still soft. Her fingers circumnavigating Jaina's clit. "Why?" A strange certainty settling in her thoughts.

Jaina clutched onto her shoulders, curling into her a little, "Why does it matter? Are you actually enjoying this?" She couldn't keep the slightly desperate whine out of her voice.

_ You asked for what I thought you deserved. _ The circling turned into rubbing.

Jaina whimpered, "That's.... This isn't...!"  _ I don't deserve this! _

_ You're not in control here,  _ Sylvanas replied implacably.  She shifted her grip, hoisting Jaina partially out of the water by her hips, and buried her head between Jaina's legs, lovingly lapping at Jaina's clit.  Even this more aggressive action wasn't nearly mean enough.

Jaina really had no control did she? She was stuck just laying here and taking it. Unable to distract herself. "Sylvanas please....!" She was trembling now, unable to deny her pleasure even while she wanted more.

Sylvanas didn't stop.  Her licking became more forceful, although she couldn't resist her usual aggressive tongue-fucking, eagerly scouring Jaina's innermost depths and lapping at her juices before returning to the quivering nub above.

But she held herself back from the other accoutrements.  The thigh biting, the butt mauling. Just gentle, loving, attention.

Jaina was going to cum... But she didn't want to. Not like this.

"Sylvvvv..... Please... Not.. not... Fuck..!" Her legs tightened around Sylvanas's shoulders as she covered her face with her hands as her shaking grew worse.

_ Yes... cum for me, Jaina... do it! _   The wall of silence that Sylvanas had erected in her head was crumbling a little in her excitement.  A finger slid into Jaina's pussy as she focused on suckling at the woman's clit hungrily.

Jaina arched, writhing, It was still so gentle compared to what they  _ had _ been doing but... She couldn't stop it either. Her muscles tightened and she trembled, before finally the first crest of her orgasm hit her and she cried out, writhed... riding the waves....

Until she burst into soft sobs.

Sylvanas had pulled back, looking at Jaina calmly.  When the tears started, she sighed softly, and leaned in, pulling her wife into a hug.   _ That’s what I thought. _

Jaina shook. She didn't cry much or often. But she clung to Sylvanas, wrapping her arms around her shoulders tightly, "S-sorry... I just… I’m sorry..."

"I'm here," Sylvanas said softly.  Kissed her gently. "Do you really not feel like you deserve gentle treatment?"

The mage clung on and pressed her face into Sylvanas's shoulder, "I don't... I don't deserve that. I'm sorry..."

"Why?" Sylvanas probed. As though to answer her own question, a strain of 'Daughter of the Sea' ran through her head, and the elf frowned slightly.  "Your father?"

_ Arthas... Father... Theramore… An ever mounting source of reasons big and small. _   Jaina swallowed, "It's not... That I want you to hurt me. I just..."

"I can't offer you forgiveness, Jaina,” Sylvanas said, her voice gentle but firm.  “And I wouldn't if I could. I don't believe you need to be forgiven for any of those things."

Jaina clung on, "... I can't forgive myself." She whispered.

"Why not?" Sylvanas probed.

"Because I could have stopped it. I could have done more. I could have and I didn't."

"You're not responsible for the decisions of others," Sylvanas said flatly.  "Nobody is. Arthas chose his own doom. Garrosh was a monster. And your father was a fool who gave you an impossible choice, and you made the choice I would've done."

"I could have done  _ more  _ though,” Jaina said, an edge of desperation creeping into her voice. “I could have stopped father. I could have stopped Arthas. I just... let them do as they were going to do. I let others deal with the consequences."

Sylvanas pursed her lips.  "Guilt is not a good motivator.  It leaves you crippled, more focused on destroying yourself than completing your goals.  Sometimes it makes you forget that you had any. Saurfang is eaten alive by it, it's why he's a liability."

"I'm not consumed by my guilt." Jaina said quietly, the tears had mostly dried and she felt utterly raw, "I was already crippled by hate."

"I know. Hate… hate is a good motivator. I ran on hate for many years. It’s why I had you marked as my most dangerous enemy until you proposed."  Sylvanas sighed.

Jaina was quiet for a moment, "... Why did you agree to this, Sylvanas?"

"Because if you, a woman filled with hate and revenge, with the raw power to act upon it and nothing to lose, could want to bury the hatchet and find peace... then maybe the gap between the Horde and the Alliance isn't so insurmountable."

The mage held onto Sylvanas still, tucked against her shoulder, "Two weeks ago my plan was that if this fell through I wouldn't hesitate to bring the full brunt of my wrath against the Horde... And today all I could think was how much I wanted to be here."

"You bound us together," Sylvanas pointed out.  Bowed her head a little. "...I missed you too."

"I apologize for dragging you away from your... work." Jaina was finally starting to calm, "...my argument with Calia got to me."

"You don't say," Sylvanas said dryly.

The mage sighed, "Can I make it up to you?" Pause, "That's... That's not an innuendo. I mean that honestly."

Sylvanas brushed Jaina's cheek, smiled. "I can handle Calia. If I promise not to do anything against her will, do I have a free hand?"

Jaina pulled back, looking her over, "I have your word?"

"If I've read her correctly, she'll do everything I want,” Sylvanas said with an air of satisfaction.

"What do you want her to do?" Jaina asked, frowning.

"I'm going to make her choose which nation she cares more about. If she picks Lordaeron, I own her. If she picks Stormwind, she removes herself as a symbol."

Jaina chewed her lip, "... As long as it's her choice."

"I win either way," Sylvanas said with some satisfaction. "As to how you can make it up to me..." She shook her head. "Maybe you can't forgive yourself. But remember that you're blameless in my eyes."

"Well, I suppose that has to count for something considering you're my wife." She smiled faintly.

"Exactly." Sylvanas kissed her softly. "You don't deserve to be punished."

The elf paused. "Of course, I also found being  _ that _ gentle a little dull, so… expect more biting next time.  We don’t always get what we deserve."

Jaina flushed but laughed softly, "I don't enjoy the rough treatment because I want to be punished. If I didn't enjoy it I wouldn't participate."

"Good. Just so long as we understand each other," Sylvanas quipped.

Jaina leaned into her wife again, curling up against her, "Thank you."

The Banshee Queen wrapped her arms around Jaina. "Don't think you can always get away with interrupting my duties," she warned. "But I did miss you. And the damn snake wasn't giving any answers."

"Why were you interrogating one?" Jaina settled in comfortably against her wife, well and truly relaxing. Warm water, an orgasm and now cuddles… these were all good things.

"She was spying,” Sylvanas said, her gentle tones fading into the cold drawl of ‘business’. “Not sure how she escaped notice for so long, but we knew there was an agent in our ranks for a while."

Jaina frowned, "Was she using a glamor?"

"It's possible. Why?" the Forsaken replied.

"I just didn't think that kind of magic would hide them well enough. With their... snake bodies and all."

"Neither did we," Sylvanas said grimly. "Hence why we're so keen to find their secrets."

"Of course." Jaina hummed, "Do you want me to have a look? For any of the trace of magic that they might retain?"

"I was hoping you might volunteer. But there’s no rush, she’s not going anywhere. It can wait for tomorrow." Sylvanas nuzzled her gently. "Are you hungry?"

"I did kind of flee Stormwind rather than sticking around for dinner..." Jaina pushed some of Sylvanas's hair away from her face.

"Come on, then." Sylvanas withdrew from the embrace reluctantly, pulled herself from the water. "Do you plan any other excursions? I suppose you'll need to visit everyone eventually. Rather you than me visiting the worgen, though."

"I need to meet with all peoples and hopefully work out who could be an adequate diplomat..." Jaina followed after but lingered on the side of the pool, "... There's something else. Something Anduin pointed out."

"Hmm?" Sylvanas began drying off. "What would that be?"

"A wedding." Jaina tried to say it as neutrally as possible, "A public one."

Sylvanas was silent for a long time. A minor storm exploding in her thoughts before calm returned. "It's a good idea," she said reluctantly.

"You sound as thrilled as I did when he brought it up." Jaina laughed a little ruefully. She finished drying off but did little more then pull on her pants and shirt, intent on not walking back.

They say mages got lazy... But honestly she felt like if she didn't use her magic, it started building up inside her. And with portals she got so much more done by not wasting time traveling.

"Do you want to do it?" Jaina asked, collecting her discarded belongings.

Sylvanas grimaced. "Mostly I'm not looking forward to all the politics and arguments as everyone tries to put forward their opinions about what and where. You know everyone will want to discuss the details."

Jaina nodded, opening the portal to their chambers, "I haven't much thought about having a wedding sense... Well." She sighed and stepped through, leaving it open for Sylvanas, "I'm... Going to have to go home."

Sylvanas looked confused for a moment, then she bristled as she realised what that meant, looking like she wanted to object. Finally she sighed. "I... understand. Even though the knowledge of how they'll treat you infuriates me. I somehow doubt that marrying the Banshee Queen, let alone the Warchief, will do anything to help your standing there."

Jaina sighed as well, "I... Don't know what will happen." She switched gears, instead focusing into a more objective facet, "Kul Tiras cannot be left out of things any longer. Just like the Gilneans couldn't stay behind their wall forever and... The world's going to change around them. They deserve to know and make the choice of what to do about it."

Sylvanas's expression was quite eloquent about her opinion of the Gilneans, but she kept her thoughts to herself.  "They're your people. I'm in no place to judge."

Jaina nodded, "We'll worry about it later. There's too much to worry about now for me to be going back."  Jaina just about managed to put on a faint smile, "You mentioned feeding me?"

"I did."  Sylvanas chuckled softly.  "If I'd known you'd be home, we might've had a guest.  Baine is in the eastern kingdoms on some excuse, but really I think he wants to see how you're faring under the terrible banshee queen."

Jaina frowned, "Well, I did say I'd probably be back... Where is he? I could fetch him easily enough."

Sylvanas waved a hand.  "Up in Silvermoon. He's not exactly fond of Undercity."

Jaina considered that, "I don't remember the last time I was in Silvermoon. We could go there instead?"

"...I suppose I could be up for an excursion.  Perks of having a mage for a wife?" Sylvanas gave a chuckle.  "We can surprise Lor’themar as well into the bargain."

Jaina snorted, "Well, might let me talk to them about who they might recommend to the position." She pulled out fresh clothes.

"Excellent."  Sylvanas began digging around for some clothes for herself.  Something slightly more formal and slightly less martial than her usual.  Seeing Sylvanas in something other than armour was... odd. Though it was still pretty armour-like, there was also some dressiness to it.

Jaina watched her quietly for a moment. It was a thought that had crossed her mind several times but it caught her at odd moments even now.  _ Pretty. _

Sylvanas glanced up.  Blushed faintly.  _ Same to you. _

Jaina blinked and then went a bit red, "Yes. Well. thank you. Shall we?" She opened a portal, holding out a hand to her wife.

The elf took the hand with almost teasing delicacy.  Flashed Jaina a smile. "Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update! This was a short one, so it didn't take much work. Next one will probably take longer.
> 
> Behold, the first real quirk of Twilight Gods; the Purge of Dalaran. Both of us somehow misremembered quite how brutal the Purge was, and as a result... in Twilight Gods, Jaina simply kicked the Horde out with minimal bloodshed. Hence there is some minor tension on the matter, but... you won't be seeing Sunreavers out for revenge or the like.


	12. How Not to Discourage Bad Behaviour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Herewith the usual warning about sexual content. Not much plot in the banging, just warm fuzzies and silliness.

Jaina pulled her wife through the portal and out at the gates of Silvermoon. She didn't know what had changed enough to take them anywhere else safely.

The Scar was immediately obvious.  Even all these years later, Arthas's trail of destruction was still visible.  Tearing through the walls and the verdant woods.

The guards ahead of them stiffened, reaching for their weapons before they recognised the two women.  Then they hesitantly saluted.

"At ease," Sylvanas drawled.  "Take us to the palace."

"Yes, Warchief!"

Jaina stood a little closer to Sylvanas just on account of not wanting to make anyone nervous... But it was heartbreaking to see the scar up-close like this and she had difficulty pulling her eyes away. She hadn't been here since before the third war. Years and years ago. Now...

"Can it not be healed?" Jaina asked even as she knew it was a ridiculous question. If it could, they would have done it already.

Sylvanas glanced over as they passed through the gates.  "No. Arthas made sure that it was utterly ruined for life.  He resented how long we held out, and wanted to punish us for it, so that even if we came back, we'd always know who our master was."

The mage felt an anger not all her own grip her, but she said nothing more on the subject.

Arthas had not been a god. Maybe she could find a way to heal the scar... But Jaina put that aside for now.

Considering the stories she'd heard, from Sylvanas and from others... the extent to which Silvermoon itself had been rebuilt was impressive.  There were differences to what the human remembered of this place. A more martial aspect touched everything, an emphasis on red instead of blue.  But it was still Silvermoon. Almost like the Blood Elves had taken the scar as a challenge, and remade their home as perfectly as they could. The city itself bustled; mostly elves, of course, but other horde races were scattered throughout.  And like Undercity, it was... strange, to see the civilian side of the enemy, something she hadn't really seen since her meetings with Thrall ended.

She'd never traveled here during those days. She'd been limited to Orgrimmar and Thunderbluff during her visits with the Horde. Jaina was... actually happy to see this though. Undercity had taken getting used to but Silvermoon didn't hold bad memories for her. Seeing them still thriving through the horror that had fallen on them was... Nice. Yes. Nice. They weren't her enemies anymore.

They got some attention, of course.  Jaina Proudmoore and Sylvanas Windrunner weren't going to be able to escape notice walking down the street.  A lot of whispering and pointing. Soon enough though they were approaching the grand palace, and the line of guards outside.

Jaina wasn't exactly unused to getting stared at and whispered about at this point, but... she'd manage.  "Tell me, Windrunner," It felt... odd to call her by her first name or by 'wife' when they were in public, "Is all the attention just for me or do you get this treatment normally?"

"I think it's the combination of the two of us," Sylvanas hummed.  "Our marriage is the talk of the Horde."

"It's the talk of everyone. But surprisingly I've yet to field any question beyond Anduin making sure I'm alright." Jaina watched an elvish woman lean in close to her partner and mutter something.

"Would you consider yourself to be an approachable person, Proudmoore?" Sylvanas asked, faint amusement in her voice.

"Before my city and my people were bombed I was so approachable I had open relations with the Horde,"  Jaina returned dryly.

"The innuendos are so easy I'm not even going to bother,” the Banshee quipped softly.  “And that's my point, Jaina, that was  _ before _ .  You've been projecting 'unstoppable rage queen' since then."

"Unstoppable rage queen?" She grumbled, "I guess I'm a good match for you, Immovable Sass Queen."

Sylvanas snickered.  "I'll take that as a compliment."

Jaina had to school her face to keep it from grinning as well, "Lets just go impose on your subjects for dinner before we give people rumors of royal squabbling." 

They passed into the palace, and they caught a glimpse of several people fleeing with the expressions of servants everywhere dealing with unexpected developments.  A short time later, Lor'themar and Baine emerged. "...Lady Windrunner, Lady Proudmoore," Lor'themar said, with a faintly long suffering look. "This is an unexpected pleasure."

"I asked to come." Jaina gave the man a slightly apologetic look, "I heard Baine was here and thought I might catch two of you at once."

The big tauren padded over, inclining his head in polite greeting.  "Lady Proudmoore," he rumbled. "You appear... well?"

The mage actually did smile at the young bull, "You look just like Anduin when I visited him. I'm doing fine, thank you. My only complaint is the Forsaken's reliance on non-perishable food..." The bruises had mostly faded anyway, and she was covered either by her clothes or by her braid, "I'm starting the search for my liaisons to the people of Azeroth. I was hoping I could speak to the two of you about who you might recommend."

"And on a related note to both, impose on you for an evening meal," Sylvanas put in.  

Lor'themar smiled brightly. "Of course.  Come this way," he gestured.

Baine fell in next to Jaina, following the two elves, and rested a heavy hand on her shoulder for a moment.  "I had my concerns," he said simply.

Jaina put a hand on... Well, more like onto one of his fingers really. They were very large hands, "... Considering the time and distance between us I'll take that as a compliment. But I promise, I'm doing... Much better than I could have anticipated going into this."

The mage looked up at him, "Part of the reason I bullied Sylvanas into coming was to soothe your concern."

The tauren treated her to a gentle, grateful smile.  "It is good to be on speaking terms once more. Once the peace has settled, I hope to meet with King Wrynn again."

"You will, I'm sure." Jaina chuckled, "I'm not kidding either, you both had almost the exact same reaction and expression."

"He is a good man.  An honourable man." Baine glanced at Sylvanas ahead of them, talking with Lor'themar, and lowered his voice.  "I am glad that I did not have to fight him by the side of one... less so."

Her smile faded, "... You put quite a lot of weight on a young man, and not enough on your warchief."

Baine shook his head.  "You did not hear her in the days before the Gathering.  As she laid her plans and spoke felfire and brimstone at any chance of a peaceful future."

"... And you were not speaking to me in the months before when I was planning the exact same future for less... noble reasons then protecting my people." Jaina paused in the hall, turning to him, "It's by luck and your warchief's willingness to listen, even to an enemy, that this peace had any kind of chance. She would have gone to war to defend your people from extinction... I would have done so in the name of revenge and hatred."

She looked down the hall to where Sylvanas and Lor'themar were getting away from them, "And... I've discovered there where other things... Things that were taking her intentions and twisting them further then I think she would have gone on her own. I'm hoping to deal with them... Shortly." Jaina looked up again, not sure if she should be talking about this but… she wanted Baine to understand.

"Other things?" The big man glanced over. "There are rumours that Sylvanas's lieutenant  is... no longer in favour. Some consider that even more unbelievable than your marriage."

Jaina chewed her lip, "... Nathanos attempted to poison me. To turn me undead. If Sylvanas hadn't been there..."

"She saved you?" Baine sounded shocked.

"And nursed me back to health." Jaina looked up at him seriously.

Baine looked towards his Warchief thoughtfully. "Perhaps she does have a heart, then."

The human touched his arm, "And she's going to need your help Baine. She respects you. She needs more then me to give her options that aren't just cutting the problem at the root and damn the consequences."

He snorted softly. "I will take your word for it. And if the price of peace right now is having a Warchief I do not fully trust... so be it. At least she is not Garrosh."

"No,” Jaina said quietly. “She isn't. And so far? I'd say she's beating out Thrall."

"That is quite a claim,” Baine said, raising a large, shaggy brow. “Thrall united us all."

"And he abandoned us to Garrosh until he threatened Thrall’s new home," Jaina pointed out, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She started opening her mouth to say more but snapped her gob shut abruptly. That kind of talk wouldn't help. Grudges left behind even if they aren't forgiven, remember? 

"... I don't hate him." She said, a little calmer, "But you must understand that my feelings towards him have... soured. Considerably."

Baine rumbled. "I will not compare my pain to yours, but Garrosh cost me and mine much as well. I understand your bitterness. Thrall... lost his way."

Jaina nodded, "Let's make sure Sylvanas doesn't lose hers." She squeezed his arm and then headed down the hall again, after Sylvanas and Lor'themar.

Lor'themar kept throwing glances back at Jaina, with seeming increasing puzzlement. Then they passed into a dining room... hadn't Kael entertained her here once?

Probably... Or somewhere close enough to trigger her memory. But it didn't stop her like the reminders of Arthas had. Kael had been a friend… or occasional pest... Nothing more. One she lost all contact with and mostly was absent for his fall and defeat.

Probably for the best. She didn't need more broken men crowding her headspace.

_ What are you telling him?  _ She whispered at Sylvanas, suspiciously.

_ Nothing, _ Sylvanas replied with a silent laugh.   _ I think he’s just baffled by my good humour. _

They sat, Lor'themar offering the head of the table to Sylvanas, who took it, patting the chair on her right invitingly to Jaina. "Let's not stand on ceremony, we're all friends here."

Jaina took the chair. Only polite, "Thank you again for hosting us Lor'themar, I'll try not to make it a habit to just drop in."

The sin’dorei nodded to her. "I know that you have had your quarrels with the Horde, but for our part, you will always be welcome in Silvermoon. Past grievances must be put aside if we are to have a future."  He seemed to be picking his words carefully.

That surprised her a little. 

"Thank you." Jaina smiled faintly, "Business before pleasure though, if that's alright, Have you any suggestions about liaisons and when might be a good time to visit to meet with them here, and at Thunder Bluff respectively?"

She'd rather focus on the future for a while then think any more about the past..

The discussions went on for a while.  But both Lor'themar and Baine seemed enthusiastic in their own reserved ways.  The Tauren, for all their strength, were not a warlike people, and the Blood Elves had suffered much.  A point of real hope for peace was worth jumping on.

Throughout, Sylvanas watched and listened, and just seemed... relaxed.  When she excused herself to deal with a messenger, Lor'themar looked at Jaina.  

"What did you  _ do? _ " he said plainly.  "I don't remember her being this relaxed even when she was still alive."

The mage blinked, "... Me? I... didn't do anything." Jaina glanced at the door that her wife had left through. Probably the step down from gearing up for war had calmed her. And removal of Nathanos…

She needed to see to him. Soon. There had been enough time. Possibly too much. Jaina would ask to see him tomorrow. For Sylvanas's sake if not her own.

Baine looked thoughtful, but he said nothing for a time.  "Who can fathom our Warchief? There are many forks in the road ahead.  At least now not all of them lead to suffering."

"I hope so." Jaina had sobered significantly, "... If this is just yet another stalling to an inevitable betrayal by one party or another... I don't know if I could handle it again."

The only question is who would survive the flood if she hit that point... Would she let any of them live in the kind of state that might leave her?

Lor'themar shook his head.  "My people need time to rebuild.  We have nothing to gain from conflict."

"As do mine," Baine said sadly.  "We have no old grudges or hatreds that we cling to.  But the Orcs... they have fought for so long that they do not know how to do much else.  I hope - and believe - that Saurfang's weariness can temper that bloodthirst. And on your side... Greymane's desire for vengeance has caused conflict many times, but… perhaps Anduin can temper him."

"My side..." Jaina leaned forward over her wine goblet, looking into it, "Did you know that I was promised help from Greymane during the days before Theramore was wiped off the map? Do you know how many Gilneans showed up to defend us? None. Not one Worgen appeared to aid us."

Baine looked sorrowful.  "I regret that my people fought in that travesty of a battle."

Lor'themar shifted uncomfortably.  Perhaps remembering the crimes of the long exiled Thalen Songweaver.

"Regret will not undo the thousands deaths or save those who were tortured by the Horde afterwards. It will not bring Kinndy or Pained back to life..." Her jaw tightened as she thought about them. Two women who, despite being so different, had started to grow a healing friendship between them. She wouldn't have been surprised if they'd eventually fallen in love. All that wiped away.  She could still feel the dust of the little gnome's body crumbling in her fingers.

Abruptly Jaina drank what was left of her wine, " Excuse me, I'd like to get a little fresh air." She set the cup down quietly and stood. This place wasn't so different from how she remembered. Wasn't there a balcony? Over there? Yes. Good.

They let her go.  Unsure of what to say.  Baine had warned her, but... both had ultimately been complicit in the tragedy.  What  _ could _ they say?

The evening air had a hint of chill in it as she emerged.  A northern wind. Lights were flickering across the city like little stars as lanterns, magical and otherwise, flared to life against the darkness.  A city that had come back from annihilation.

But Theramore wouldn't.  Not after that kind of destruction.

Garrosh really had got off too easily.

She'd blamed the Horde for Theramore.  Maybe she'd been right to. After all, they'd all contributed, all played their part...

...except Sylvanas and her Forsaken.

Even Lor'Themar had participated distantly from what she understood - or at least done nothing to stop Garrosh’s pet Sunreavers. But no Forsaken had been spotted. No aid from the Banshee Queen.

_ And they call her less honorable. _

Jaina sneered, wrapping her arms around herself as she leaned against the railing. Sylvanas had been alarmingly logical, agreeable, blunt and.... even kind. But... She'd used the plague on Gilneas. Didn't that mean anything? Didn't that make Jaina as hateful?

Considering Greymane's reckless warmongering and his untrustworthiness to anyone but Varian... She wished she could care more. The Worgen didn't deserve her distrust just for having a useless king.

The Forsaken had certainly never been hesitant about using the Blight, and nor had Sylvanas, by all accounts.

But was that so out of character?  They'd been born out of desperation and madness.  An undead army freed of its shackles, and lead by a warrior who, by all accounts, was a ruthless pragmatist even in life.  Why wouldn't they use such a deadly weapon to ensure victory?

Sylvanas had never indicated particular hatred for the Gilneans.  She was bitter towards Greymane for destroying her ability to make more Val'kyr, and she seemed to enjoy goading the old man... but she seemed to view their history as just... war.  Nothing special. Nothing  _ personal _ .  By all accounts, she hadn't even intended to kill Greymane's son, the man had just got in the way of her shot.

Jaina would believe it. Sylvanas had no need to lie when she'd said she'd been aiming for the king instead.

What would Jaina do when confronted with Saurfang? The man who  _ should _ have stopped Garrosh? The one who was closest?

She didn't know. Sylvanas had said he wanted to die for some form of honor. She gripped the railing, frost creeping across the beautifully carved stone.  _ Maybe I'll see him off to his warriors death. _

Saurfang seemed... controversial.  Baine spoke of him with respect, Sylvanas poured scorn on the mere mention of him.  Who knew what the ordinary Horde folk were saying? The orcs?

It was easy to see how an old warrior, battle-hardened and experienced, pulling them away from the rampant aggression of Garrosh, could attract a following.

But why did Sylvanas consider him a joke?  Just his apparent lack of action?

Jaina had only ever seen him. She'd barely ever heard him speak... That alone said quite a lot to her, considering his position. She'd watched Varian let the orc pass to get to his son's body. To grieve... But that had not given him enough reasons to stop Garrosh's insanity when he turned on Theramore. Why was she surprised? The times that she had spent in Horde territory before it all happened she had never seen him and Thrall had said he had refused to meet her.

Jaina forced herself to relax, to take a deep breath and calm herself as much as possible, wrapping her arms around herself again...

It was easy to hum to clear her head, look up at the shimmering stars and think about nothing but the familiar melody...

Cool hands settled on her shoulders.  "Hello, Jaina," Sylvanas murmured in her ear.  "Problems? Your thoughts are troubled."

Jaina started, straightening up, "Problems? No... I just needed some fresh air." It was easy to relax a little better as she leaned back slightly into the woman. Still nervous about public displays but... feeling Sylvanas's solidity was grounding. And besides, there was nobody here to watch.

The arms lowered, wrapped around Jaina's stomach, held her close. Strange how this solid, cool embrace had become so comforting already.  "Baine said that Theramore came up. I didn't really need to ask more than that."

Jaina put her hands over Sylvanas's, "I’d apologise, but you agreed to be saddled with me, knowing my history."

"I did."  Sylvanas shook her head.  "I chose to accept a chance for peace, and figured I could tolerate the woman it came with.  As it turns out, I have yet to regret binding myself to you."

Jaina flushed, heart doing a little nervous stutter, "You say that now... Just wait until we completely disagree on something."

Sylvanas laughed softly.  "We're both quite resilient.  I think we'll manage." She settled her chin on Jaina's shoulder.  "Was it just Theramore? Or is something else bothering you?"

"... Theramore puts a lot of things into perspective." Jaina sighed quietly, "Half the Alliance didn't even show to help save it, and everyone but you followed Garrosh's orders. The worst I can accuse you of is not putting him down before it happened."

The undead elf shook her head.  "Garrosh kept me and mine very firmly under his thumb the moment he took command of the Horde.  If it were up to him, the Forsaken would have been wiped out. As it was, he tried to use us as cannon fodder.  It was all I could do to ensure that we fought our wars our way. Did you know that I attacked Gilneas on his orders?"

"... Did you use the blight on his orders?" She said after a moment.

"He unilaterally banned the use of it.” Sylvanas gave a dark chuckle. “Typically I ignored that order wherever I could get away with it, because I knew why he gave the order; he wanted me to burn my troops and weaken the Forsaken.  It wasn't out of care for the enemy."

"That really is your guiding light, isn't it?" Jaina hummed, "Everything comes down to saving the lives of your people. I'm not sure why I thought that anything might be different in this case."

She turned in Sylvanas's arms resting her hands on the elf's shoulders and nuzzling closer to her neck, urge to be closer overriding her squeamishness about public displays. They were alone out here, right? So what did it matter...

_ I failed at that duty enough in the past… _ Sylvanas thought soberly. Slowly tightened her grip around Jaina.  Pressed a kiss on her forehead. _ Strange how comforting this feels. _

Jaina sighed, gripping Sylvanas's shirt tighter. _ It's only strange if you stop to think about it. _   She pulled back a little, looking up at her wife, "Maybe together we won't fail again."

Sylvanas was quiet for a moment.

"If I ever have to choose between the Forsaken and anyone else... you know who I'll choose," she said simply.

"I want a world where you won't have to choose." The mage straightened Sylvanas's collar, pulling back slightly.

"We don't always get what we want," Sylvanas said darkly.  Brushed her cheek. "But we can hope."

Jaina leaned into Sylvanas's touch slightly, "I'd like to hope again. One day."

The Dark Lady smiled softly.  Red eyes glowing in the dark, like the lanterns below.  "Come. They're serving wispcakes, and I imagine you haven't had those for a long time."

"Wispcakes?" Jaina smiled faintly, "You think my good mood can be bribed with sweets?"  _ I can absolutely be bribed with sweets.  _ She didn't even try to conceal that thought.

"I knew it."  Sylvanas pulled away, offered her hand delicately to lead her back inside.

The mage took it, a little hesitantly considering she'd be walking back inside in full view… but she shook it off. It wasn't anything deeply intimate. Even in a political alliance, there were certain expectations of behaviour, right?  This wouldn’t signify anything. It was fine.

"Don't rely on it to get you out of trouble." She warned, half jokingly.

"I'm sure I can find some other ways of quenching your fury," the Forsaken murmured.

The two men still at the table watched as the pair re-entered, the tantalising scent of elven delicacies ahead of them.

Jaina managed to keep her face neutral but... Honestly she wasn't sure the faint blush was kept off her cheeks. She couldn't tell if they'd heard Sylvanas's comment.

"Behave, Windrunner." She grumbled.

"Watch your tone in speaking to the Warchief," Sylvanas teased.

Baine's jaw almost dropped.  Clearly unused to Sylvanas being playful.

"I'll take whatever tone I like with my wife,  _ Windrunner. _ " Jaina retook her seat, "If the Warchief would stop me from doing that then I'll be bringing a formal complaint against her."

"How cold, my darling, and I thought I was the one with the chill of the grave in their veins.  Perhaps your ice is even colder than that. Strange to consider that I apparently have the duty of warming you up."

Jaina scowled at her, "In public?  _ Really _ ?"

Sylvanas just laughed, settled in at her chair in that familiar cat-like sprawl.  "You know how much I enjoy winding people up, Jaina. But I will let you eat in peace."

"Are you sure?" Jaina raised an eyebrow, but the draw of the wispcakes was enough to distract her.

Lor'themar was looking rather red, and silently nudged the plate towards her.  Just as fluffy and light as the name and memory implied. Elven baking at its finest.

The mage took one with a much quieter, "Thank you." Why was he red? Could he tell? Tell what? Who knew! Probably guessing at the fact that they'd definitely been more than just dutiful in their 'marital obligations'. That would be embarrassing on its own but of all the things he could guess at it was the safer option. HE OBVIOUSLY KNEW SOMETHING WAS GOING ON.

Jaina vainly attempted to ignore everyone's existence and eat her wispcake with a shred of remaining dignity, while Sylvanas looked at her smugly and Lor’themar apparently wished he was anywhere but here.

Baine gave a rumble of laughter suddenly.  "It's good to see that even under the circumstances of your marriage... you have still  formed a bond and are acting like young mates everywhere."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Sylvanas drawled.

Jaina nearly choked on her pastry, "You do realize this is not- That's hardly appropriate for-.... Being friendly and sarcastic doesn't mean anything like what you're thinking!" She declared. Vehemently.

Much too vehemently.

Baine was still chuckling, unperturbed.

"Even in politics, it is wise to find common ground and affection with one's partner," Lor'themar carefully volunteered.  Sylvanas still had a cat-with-the-cream grin.

_ I don't even need to say anything, this writes itself,  _ the Banshee Queen thought.

_ I hate you. _ Jaina growled back.

"Friendship, yes. But... Oh never mind." Jaina sat back in her chair, "Thank you for your hospitality, Lor'themar."

_ No you doooon't, _ Sylvanas cooed in her head.

"You are welcome, Lady Proudmoore," Lor'themar said with some relief.  "As I said, Silvermoon is always open to you."

"As is Thunder Bluff.  It is only fair that you should visit my home again someday," Baine rumbled.

"I'll have to to come meet your liason." Jaina managed to pull herself back to neutrality, "How about in two days? That should give me enough time to finish up here and a portal to Kalimdor is a little more draining... Would it be alright if I stayed the night?"

_... Does my ice bother you Sylvanas? _

"Of course," Baine said.  "I will host you myself."

_ Not at all.  Why?  _ Sylvanas replied.

_ Because I'm going to show you just how cold I am when we get back home,  _ Jaina thought calmly.

"Thank you, Baine." Outwardly, her smile was pleasant, "I'm looking forward to it. I always found Thunder Bluff to be a very calming place to visit with your father."

_ Should I be worried?  _ Sylvanas queried. The bitch was still smirking.

"I remember," Baine said soberly.  "It was a simpler time. Perhaps it will be so again."

Jaina nodded, touching his arm lightly, "And Lor'Themar... Is tomorrow too soon to sort out the liaison from Silvermoon?"

"I'll have a few candidates ready for you, no problem,” Lor’themar assured.

The mage smiled, continuing to ignore her wife's question as she stood up. Sylvanas had given her the silent treatment enough times, see how she liked receiving it.  "Well, with that, gentlemen, I think we'll take our leave. After my trip to Stormwind I'm feeling a little tired. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon."

Both rose.  Lor'themar giving a polite bow, Baine holding out a hand to shake but with a posture indicating that a bear hug like the old days wouldn't be entirely unexpected or unwelcome.  Sylvanas lazily got to her feet as well.

Jaina didn't resist it. As much for his sake as for hers, hugging him tightly around the chest, as much as she could reach.. She had to let go of these.... grudges. If she didn't then this would never work.  And there was something nice about the tauren’s embrace.

She pulled away, giving each man a smile in turn, "Until then." She opened a portal... But didn't wait for Sylvanas, instead stepping through to the banshee-queens bedroom without even a glance at her.

She heard Sylvanas exchange a few words, and then stepped through as well.  The banshee glanced around, smiled sweetly. "Tired, Jaina? Straight to bed for you?"

Jaina grabbed Sylvanas just as the portal closed, forcing her back against the wall hard and pinning her there with her own body, "You're  _ infuriating _ , did you know that?"

She didn't care about a verbal answer, she was already kissing the elf's cold lips demandingly.

Sylvanas squirmed a little, kissed back welcomingly, settling her hands on Jaina's sides.   _ I've been told as much, yes.  It's a way to pass the time. _

Jaina’s teeth caught Sylvanas's lower lip briefly.  _ I can think of a much better one. _ Her hands were already pulling apart the more ceremonial garb Sylvanas wore.

Sylvanas shivered.  There were some straps and fastenings, but... none that proved much obstacle, and cool grey flesh was soon visible.  "Do tell..." she breathed, running a tongue over her lip.

She made sure Sylvanas was all but naked except for her boots which... If she was honest she just didn't have time to bother removing. 

"You said you were going to warm me up, didn't you?" Jaina grinned faintly, her mouth trailing down Sylvanas's neck before she aggressively wrapped her lips around where a pulse had once been, suckling at the cold flesh hard and intently. Jaina wanted to see  _ her _ try and walk around covered in bruises... Bite marks... She was going to cover the banshee in them.

Her fingers gripped Sylvanas's hips bruisingly tight before she reached upwards, cupping her breasts and pinching at the nipples.

The banshee groaned softly, squirming a little and arching against the harsh attention.  A cute little dark, almost black mark was on her neck now. Success!

_ I did promise that… _ the elf agreed.

"You can tell me to stop." Jaina said suddenly, her actions pausing, looking up searchingly towards Sylvanas's face, "If you ever tell me to stop... I will. Whatever the reason."

Sylvanas gazed down at her, settling.  Nodded.  _ I believe you. _

It was... a little thing.  But given what she'd said when she opened up... it mattered.

The next kiss was softer, brief, just a confirmation through affection really before Jaina’s fingers trailed down and she rather aggressively pressed them between Sylvanas's lips, less teasing her clit and more pinching it.

Another soft moan emerged from Sylvanas's throat, and she quivered a little.  Those dead nerves did appreciate a little roughness... but still, Jaina was pushing her more than usual, and she seemed to be enjoying it.   _ Feeling warmer? _ she teased.

"Oh, just you wait... I'll show you exactly what you can warm up..." Jaina bit at Sylvanas's shoulder roughly before she finally backing up a little, starting to pull free of her own clothes, another slow, angry bruise forming there.

Sylvanas slid back against the wall, kicking off her boots and gazing at Jaina hungrily.  Livid marks here and there, her thighs stained, her dead body doing its utmost to remember how this all worked.

A corpse should not look that fucking sexy.

"I did wonder what it was you kept almost suggesting before..." she breathed.  "Am I about to find out?"

"In detail." Jaina finally kicked off her trousers, not bothering with her boots. Besides... She'd need the extra height.

She'd tried it twice already just to be sure she could work... That it wouldn't fall apart or hurt. It wasn't pleasant to begin with, but a little cold never really hurt her, and a melty surface was good lubricant.

The real struggle was settling with the way it clung to her clit.

The mage pressed both hands between her own legs, wincing with a shiver as the ice spread up and into her, the mixture of ice and arcane clinging to her in a way that gravity didn't approve of. Then, from the front, as she drew her hands away, the magiced strapon formed. Strapless really but... Well she'd made this spell up, it didn't really have a name yet besides 'too much time on my hands, a resistance to cold and a libido to put a sailor to shame'.

"Turn around,” she purred, triumphant.

Sylvanas's eyes widened.   _ That's... both impressive and much scarier than mine... _

But the elf turned around, pressing her hands against the wall, spreading her feet and bending over a little.  "Like this?"

Jaina gripped her hips briefly, leaning in behind, nipping at a long ear, "Just like that." She was... actually extremely excited to try this. It worked well in theory but did it actually give adequate stimulation in practice? The arcane mitigated the chill so as not to cause real damage, but how would it function under stress?

It was all the best parts of sex and testing a theoretical spell all rolled into one!

Her hands trailed down to the elf's ass, mauling the flesh there as Jaina's mouth started leaving marks down her back. One hand spread her while the other felt between them to guide the tip of the icey cock into place against Sylvanas's entrance. She couldn't feel it really, only the pressure it applied to her own clit. Even this little bit of resistance was enough to make her shiver in anticipation.

Sylvanas shivered too.  "Fuck... you're... that even feels cold to me... how can you stand it?”  Still, she pushed back a little, teasing herself against the tip.  _ I'll do my best to warm it up... but I know what I'm shopping for next time I'm in Orgrimmar... _

"It's a mixture of arcane and ice and... I'll explain later if you really want to know the details." Jaina pressed forward and hissed as the resistance of sinking into Sylvanas pressed on her even harder.  _ Do I even want to know...?  _ she pondered at the Orgrimmar comment.

_ I just feel like... _   Sylvanas’s thoughts stalled for a moment as the ice dildo slid into her.   _...like... I need something... _ "Ohhhh fuck..."   _...more... aggressive than... elven craftsmanship... _

"Did you say 'more'? As you wish." The mage pressed in harsher until she was spooned behind Sylvanas completely, ice buried deep in her as she could be. She couldn't help grinning like an idiot, nipping and kissing at her shoulder muscles.

"Don't worry, I'll give you more." Jaina pulled her hips back, slow at first, but with a soft gasp of need she couldn't help herself from jerking back in.

Yep. Working as intended. Holy fuck... Better than intended. Every pull and push pressed into or tugged on her own clit.

The only response that Sylvanas could make was a strangled moan as Jaina began to move.

There was definitely a kick to having the mighty Banshee Queen, warchief of the Horde and one of the most feared people on Azeroth, bent over and squealing below her.

Especially the way she convulsively humped back as Jaina thrust in again.

Jaina’s hand tangled into Sylvanas's dulled hair, the other gripping her hip. She wasn't interested in waiting. Sylvanas would tell her if it was too much right? So she started a much more brutal pace then she usually would, enjoying the thuds as they met with each thrust almost as much as the aggressive way her end of the magicked toy fucked into her and slid against her clit. It was so good she couldn't be as quiet as she usually was as she fucked her wife.

_ I hope you remember this the next time you decide you want to tease me in public, _ she thought, soft groans escaping her throat.

"Y-yes!  I will! I'll remember!" Sylvanas moaned.   Very much in Jaina's control, her body the plaything of the mage, not even able to move her head much.  "I'll... remember... fuck, don't stop... and  _ I'll do it again, you bitch! _ "  She cackled a laugh, interrupted by a squeal as Jaina thrust in again.

"You cheeky  _ slut _ ." Jaina suddenly yanked out of Sylvanas, grabbing her shoulder and forcing her to turn around, slamming her into the wall again immediately. Her hands lifted the elf's knees, wrapping them around her waist while Jaina's teeth angrily and demandingly found her blue skin, leaving telling marks as the woman was lifted into the air, against the wall…

"I'm not the one who came up with an arcane ice cock," Sylvanas pointed out, her own hands grasping onto Jaina’s shoulders as she braced herself.

Jaina didn’t respond to the comment.  She just abruptly fucked into again, face to face now, letting her watch Windrunner's breasts bounce with every heated, angry, thrust. Enjoying the view - and the fact that the banshee’s smart mouth was once again busy making sounds of pleasure.  Sylvanas’s neck arching offeringly as she was bitten.

Strapons always lacked a little something because they didn't give any feed-back. But this... This was a very strange slice of heaven.

_ I shouldn't be looking forward to you pissing me off or embarrassing me but this feels so good... So good… _ Jaina thought.

She could feel the knot of her orgasm building inside her.

Sylvanas didn't respond.  She couldn't. Too much focus on being fucked.  Cold water was trickling down her thighs, diluting her own sluggish juices, and she seemed like she was building up to her own climax, judging by the mess of pleasured thoughts in her mind.  So close. So needy.

_ That's it... That's right... _ Jaina panted outwardly even as she rocked them violently towards completion, her teeth wrapping around the first bruise to deepen it.  _ The least you can do is cum with me, love. _

The elf clutched on, her fingers curling into claws and raking over Jaina's back.  Her eyes rolling back as she screamed in climax, quivering and convulsing in Jaina's grasp, toes curling and tongue lolling a little.

Jaina was barely half a step behind her, her thrusts becoming erratic as her muscles rebelled against continuing in favor of just flat out spasming... But finally as her orgasm's crashing started to lessen she let her head fall onto Sylvanas' shoulder, trying to catch her breath as her lower half twitched.

Slowly the mage sank to the floor with a lap full of elf, unable to hold them up any more as she gasped for air.

Sylvanas wrapped her legs around Jaina tightly, staying bound together at the hip.  Pressing kisses numbly along Jaina's neck.  _ Ok... now... I'm ready for bed... _

Jaina nodded a little weakly, "I might... have to crawl. That was a lot more work than I anticipated."

Maybe portals  _ had _ made her lazy...

"Are you alright?" She questioned seriously between her puffing.

"That was... quite intense," Sylvanas purred.  Nuzzling a little. It was a strange contrast, how calm her voice sounded with how much her body twitched.  Not needing to breathe could lead to strange contrasts. "I'm… almost alive. You?"

The mage nodded, waving a hand to banish the ice, it's sudden absence making her groan, "Yeah... Definitely warm now."

Sylvanas laughed softly.  Nuzzled her again. "Now you know how I feel whenever I get to fuck you.  All that delicious living heat." She squirmed a little at the sudden removal of the thing penetrating her, and shifted to get comfier.

Jaina leaned against her, "I knew it. You only agreed to it because you wanted my body heat. You're like a lizard." She chuckled softly.

"You've found me out," her wife said with a grin.  "All of your delicious heat. Especially the heat inside you."

Jaina flushed, "That is not a compliment you know... Actually considering the fact that you're undead I'm going to start worrying about you eating me. And not in the fun way."

Sylvanas wrapped a hand around her neck, pulled her in for a slow, affectionate kiss.   _ That'd be a terrible waste. _

Jaina couldn't really fight it off, kissing her softly in return. _ That, I suppose, I'll take as a compliment. _

The banshee slowly pulled away, climbed to her feet and scooped Jaina into her arms, padding over to the bed.  "You should."

_ She said 'love' again… _ Sylvanas thought in passing.

Jaina clung on, having to stifle a yawn, as she was carried. She'd said love?

Oh.

"It's... Love is just... A term of endearment. In Kul Tiras,” the human explained. “You'd call your wife love, you’d call your child love... I once heard a man call his horse love. That was a little odd though, I'll be honest."

Just... A rational explanation. No worries.

She just wouldn't think about the fact that she stopped using it decades ago and not even motherly affection for Anduin brought it out of her.

"Ah."  Sylvanas pulled the covers back, tucked them both in.  Cuddled up comfortably. "So Silvermoon tomorrow... Kalimdor the day after... you might as well stop in at a few places over there, not just Thunder Bluff.  Seems like we'll finally be parted for a while."

"Indeed." The mage couldn't say she was looking forward to it. She was sure she'd be clamoring for her own space by this point, begging to get free from the oppressive presence of the Banshee Queen.

She'd thought wrong.

"I shouldn't go between the continents too much on my own power. It's not the easiest thing, even for me."

"Quite." Sylvanas paused.  "...we could both travel over there.  Take the  _ Windrunner _ across the sea.  It'd be slower, but... we could make a real excursion of it.  And it might be worth it for me to visit the territories over there. Perhaps visit Pandaria on the way back or something, not that they’ve had any real trouble in years."

"Do you want to?" Jaina opened her eyes briefly.

"A day will give me a chance to wrap things up here.  And my power base and support has always been shakier in Kalimdor than Lordaeron." Sylvanas paused.  "And yes, I'd love to. Also it occurs to me that you have your own ship. Although you might prefer to be a passenger for a journey that long."

She nodded, "I'm happy to take the Windrunner." She closed her eyes again, "Tomorrow... I want to meet with Nathanos."

Sylvanas paused.  "As you wish. You can meet the Naga prisoner too, if you like."

Jaina nodded, "I guess I'm not sleeping in."

"I'll make sure you wake up."   _ I swear that's not as suggestive as it sounds. _

It made Jaina chuckle tiredly, "It was definitely suggestive."

Sylvanas closed her eyes.   _ I might be healing for a little while after that.  Not that I'm complaining. _

Jaina cuddled closer.  _ Goodnight, love. _

_ Goodnight, Jaina. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus we come to the end of Act 1 of Twilight Gods. Our lovely ladies are together, peace seems to really be working, and everything is going to be wonderful... right?
> 
> Yeah right.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed that chapter. It's the last drama-free one for a while. You didn't think we'd forgotten about those old gods, did you?


	13. Act II - Traitors

**Act II: The Pain of Children**

Jaina awoke, as usual these days, in darkness.  The gently glowing green lights that illuminated Undercity never changed, never altered to reflect the time or weather.

Sylvanas was still dozing, nuzzled into her.  Almost feeling alive, warmed by Jaina's own body heat.

She yawned faintly, snuggling in a little bit more. Just for a few minutes... Only to bask in the comfort of it. Gently she kissed Sylvanas's face a few times in a bid to wake her slowly.

The undead elf eventually stirred, opened her eyes.  "Good morning," she hummed softly. "Sleep well?"

There was always an expression on Sylvanas's face when she woke up.  Like she hadn't been expecting Jaina to still be there when she woke up. A kind of pleased surprise and muted happiness.

"Mmm. Nice and warm." Jaina smiled faintly, "... Still sore?" She peered curiously below the covers to check and see if she was still bruised.

Sylvanas shrugged.  "Not really." The bruises were still there, especially the one on her neck.

The mage traced it with a finger, "I'm not sure if I'm glad or disappointed..."

"You want me to feel that I've been marked?" Sylvanas chuckled lazily.  "Not just see it in a mirror? Very orcish, how long  _ did _ you spend around Thrall in the old days?"

Jaina snorted, "More like properly punished for how much trouble you gave me last night." But her slight blush spoke differently, "... I might have had one of my most memorable lesbian experiances with an orc."

"Oh?"  Sylvanas propped herself up on an arm.  "Now I'm intrigued."

She snorted, "It was when some in Orgrimmar were just starting to warm up to my visits. I was invited to a festival, got challenged to a drinking game... I almost drunk her under the table. We spent the day after nursing our hangovers together. She opened my eyes to enjoying being more aggressive in general."

The elf pondered this, nodded.  "Ah. Happier days all round. Or so I've heard."  She shook her head. "Less so for me and mine, of course."

"I'm sorry." Jaina gently kissed the bruise on Sylvanas's neck... And part of her suddenly wanted to repay in kind what Sylvanas had done to her yesterday... But maybe another time. They shouldn't lag too much. She sat up slowly, stretching comfortably.

The warchief rose, tugging Jaina into a proper kiss, then pulled away to began buckling on her armour.  "So," she said grimly. "The dungeons. Do you want breakfast first? Or straight to business?" Neither of them were keen on what that meant, but… it had to be done.

"Considering these meetings are likely to turn my stomach I'll wait to eat until later..." The mage pulled herself into proper clothes. She was healed enough that her usual light corset and coat would cover her enough.

Sylvanas finished her last buckle.  It didn't really cover the bruise on her neck, but she didn't seem bothered.  "Let's go. The spy or the traitor?"

There was no mistaking the bitterness in her voice.

"Traitor first." Jaina wanted to get him out of the way, "... Have you spoken to him at all yet?"

"Once.  I told him to rot in a cell for a while and think on his mistakes." Sylvanas set off, leading them down, down, down.  Past abominations, rangers, elites and banshees. All her best and most trusted soldiers. She took her prison seriously.

Which made sense.  After all, the Forsaken weren't well known for taking prisoners.  So if they did... whoever it was must be important.

Jaina followed in silence. Should she ask to speak to him alone? She might be more neutral... But how many times had she been left out when those who had betrayed her were put on trial or dealt with?

Many.

No, they'd do this together.

It seemed like only two cells were currently occupied.  The ranger on guard silently opened up Nathanos's cell, gestured inside to where the man himself was chained up.

The mage stepped inside the cell, looking him over. He was undead, he couldn't exactly starve or die of thirst... But being locked in a cell for a week was likely not a fun experience.

"Nathanos Blightcaller."

"Jaina Proudmoore," He replied flatly.  He looked a little more sunken than before, the flesh a little more emaciated, his armour stripped from him and left in little more than rags.  But his tone was still arrogant and self-assured. "And my Lady Sylvanas. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"An explanation." The human said coldly, "I'm owed one for your attempt on my life, and Sylvanas is owed one for your betrayal."

"I have only ever acted with the best interests of Lady Windrunner at heart."  Nathanos’s voice was oddly… calm. Flat. Like he felt like he was playing a game, not being imprisoned.

"That implies a neutrality you never had, Nathanos," Sylvanas growled.  "You were meant to watch Varimathras while I was in Northrend. You encouraged my plans for war against the Alliance.  You even outright disagreed with me about Theramore."

Jaina looked at Sylvanas sharply, "Disagreed with you? He thought you should have helped Garrosh?"

"He believed that it would make a good first strike," Sylvanas grunted.  "We didn't know about the mana bomb, but we guessed Garrosh had some trick or weapon.  Nathanos said that if it worked once... it could be used again on Stormwind."

"No, it couldn't. Not without the focusing lens." Jaina turned, a cold kind of fury in her now, "You sound less like a lieutenant loyal to his commander and more like a warmongering wolf I know!"

"I didn't know that at the time," Nathanos said calmly.  "And as I recall, Lady Sylvanas... your main interest in opposing Garrosh and fermenting rebellion in the Horde against him alongside Vol'jin was to get rid of a dangerous enemy, not sympathy for the plight of the living."  Reasonable. Even-toned. No anger or hatred. The voice of the trusted advisor. And with… a hint of something else, something that Jaina recognised somehow.

Sylvanas glowered.  _ Why does he sound so reasonable? I know he’s wrong. Why do I  _ still _ want to listen to him? _

If Jaina had been a younger woman, if she hadn’t taken the time to know Sylvanas in these weeks, if they didn’t have the rites binding them together tighter than they were ever intended to do… This ‘revelation’ could have put a wedge between her and Sylvanas. It could have made Jaina second guess her intentions and let the bitterness of the past rise.

Light burst into Jaina’s eyes as she summoned her ice. Not a lance, instead spikes sprung from the floor, the ceiling, the walls, razor points growing towards the chained prisoner, "Don't open your mouth in an attempt to sow mistrust between us, traitor, it will not work. Of course she was more focused on Garrosh being her enemy. Sylvanas's main goal has always been the safety of her people. Now I want an answer as to why yours seems to have been to put them in more harms way."

"The Forsaken -" he started.

"The Forsaken are  _ mine, _ Nathanos," Sylvanas interrupted icily.  "And you've always treated them like dirt.  You were arrogant in life, but you weren't rude or cruel.  Death changed us all, but you... what happened to you?"

"You know what happened to me,” Nathanos replied. That voice not changing from the self-assured calm. Not a man defending himself from accusations. How could he not understand what was going on?  “I was slain by that monster abomination not so far from here, and I was little more than a slavering zombie when you found me and broke me free of the Lich King. If I seem different, consider it merely the mark of trauma spent as such a pathetic imitation of my former self. Along with the changes that have come from standing by your side, Lady Sylvanas. You know that I am loyal to you. I could never be anything  _ but _ your loyal servant. I overstepped the line, but it will not happen again. Once you have released me, I will ensure that I take greater care with my actions, you have my word.”

Sylvanas faltered slightly.  Like she was falling for his words again. She'd once cared about this man.  Back when they were both alive. Now... now Nathanos was using that to twist her round his thumb.

Or was he?  There was still that… note of something.  The way he held himself, the way he spoke, the way he seemed to  _ think _ , even… what was it that was gnawing at Jaina? She shook it off, straightened. "Even the dead are not slaves to their trauma," she snapped, the ice gaining pace, razor edges threatening to slice him to pieces on all sides now, forcing him into tense position to avoid it’s tender mercies, "You do not have to be at peace to look towards the future. The Gathering showed that of the Forsaken. Sylvanas shows that to me every day. You are everything I was afraid the Forsaken where, irrevocably touched by the Lich King. Made monsters against your will, but remaining monsters by your own choice."

She stared down at him in barely restrained anger... Less for his war mongering and snakes tongue and more for the effect he was having on Sylvanas. This man was poison. Poison that Sylvanas had been swallowing for years. "And if none of that were true? I would cut you down for trying to manipulate and betray Sylvanas... My  _ wife _ , alone."

Jaina was no longer interested in hearing him speak, a long spike pressed under Nathanos' chin threateningly, ready to end this permanently.

For the first time, that icy, superior calm cracked. Nathanos’s eyes flicked to Sylvanas. "My Queen… Sylvanas... please, I've  _ never _ acted against y-"

Sylvanas's eyes flashed.  "You attempted to murder Jaina Proudmoore.  Without my authority and against my orders. You made an assumption, and you showed your true colours.  Tell me, Nathanos, did I  _ actually _ free you?  Or is the Lich King still in your skull?  Who owns you? Because you're not the man who was willing to sacrifice your own ambitions and home in order to salvage my career."

Jaina raised her hand, "Tell her, Blightcaller, these will likely be your last words."

Nathanos shook his head as much as the ice allowed, the strange calm returning,  "You own me… my love. You always have. Ever since you found me, it’s only been you. Whispering in my head."

Sylvanas froze.  "Stop. Jaina, stop.  What do you mean, whispering in your head?"

Jaina hesitated, wanting to simply end this and remove whatever influence he had on Sylvanas once and for all.... But she relented. Only a little. Just pulling the ice back away a few inches.

"Since you freed me," he said. A slight relaxation in his posture.  "You've been in there. Ensuring that I do whatever it takes to advance the Forsaken. To end the Lich King. To defend our interests. To punish the living and all your enemies."

Sylvanas turned away, leaning on the wall of the cell. Her mind a swirling mass of confused, horrified, angry feelings.

Jaina watched her with concern, "... Sylvanas? What is he talking about?"

"That's not normal," Sylvanas hissed.  "The mark of the Forsaken is that we're free.  Free of cages for our thoughts. Free of... the whispers.  Always, the Lich King whispering.  _ So why does he hear me in his head? _ "

She frowned, "... You said... He said that you found him as a mindless zombie of the scourge. That you broke him free. How?"

"I... had my rangers fire black arrows to pin him down, to weaken him and keep him trapped.  Then I forced my will upon him." She was looking scared. For Sylvanas to show weakness in public... she must be losing it.

And that was when Jaina realised what it was that Nathanos reminded her of.

It was Sylvanas. Sylvanas at her most spiteful, her most vicious. She’d unwittingly turned Nathanos into a slave, and poured all her worst tendencies into him… and then made him her advisor. Even the way he spoke, the way he held himself, had something of the contempt she displayed for her enemies.

Jaina’s eyes flicked between them, thinking quickly _. _ Unsure of what to do with this realisation, except… put it aside, focus on the now. _ Do you want me to try and save him? _

Sylvanas gazed at Nathanos. Red eyes staring into each other. Not responding, just… looking.

Unease ran through Jaina, but again, she pushed it down. Sylvanas surely wouldn’t take him back. Not after this.  _ He can’t stay like this, Sylvanas. I spent a long time studying the Lich King, the mind, the soul… I might be able to free him. But I won’t let him leave this room alive as he is.  _ Maybe her old, vain hopes of trying to save Arthas could lead to something after all.

Sylvanas glanced over at Jaina. But it felt, for a moment, like her wife was very far away. There was just her, and… this monster. The monster that she’d moulded.

Revulsion. That was the emotion that won out. Disgust, loathing, pity - both for her former lieutenant, and for herself. All these years, that lurking fear of becoming Arthas, of repeating his worst crimes… and she’d done just that, to a man who’d once been a confidante and friend. Had Nathanos ever come back? Or was he just a mindless husk that she’d filled with her deranged, rage-fuelled soul and her memory of him?

“I have always been your most faithful servant, Lady Windrunner,” Nathanos said. That eerie calm back in his voice.

"Make the choice, Windrunner." Jaina said, evenly. Her thoughts were cool, calmer, the fury wasn't gone just... quiet. She was too focused on the now. Past and future… those could wait.

Sylvanas Windrunner glanced at her.  Then back to him. Truly seeing who and what he was.  What she’d made him into.

Later she’d claim that he was a liability. That he was too crushed to have any chance of saving. That even in the best case scenario he’d still be a warmonger, a potential traitor, a threat to peace.

But the truth was, as her hands blurred to pull an arrow from her quiver, aimed, and sent the barbed shaft through his skull… the only thing she felt was hate.

The forsaken man slumped.  Truly dead.

Jaina looked down at him, silent for a moment, before she turned for the door, "There's another prisoner to see to."

Sylvanas took a breath, opened her eyes.  Once again the Dark Queen of the Forsaken. Nodded, stalked from the cell.  "Have the mess cleaned up and open the next cell," she instructed the ranger.  The other elf saluted and obeyed, making no comment. If she had thoughts about what she’d seen or heard… she kept them to herself.

The smell of fresh blood hit Jaina's nostrils as they entered the next cell, in contrast to the ever-present scent of earth and death.  Coiled up as best she could, forced upright by the chains binding her four arms to the ceiling and walls, was a female naga. She'd clearly been beaten, burned and poisoned, and she'd been stripped naked, showing every abuse of her scales and flesh.  Still, she raised her head with a mocking smile in greeting. "Here to play again, surface dwellers?"

"I'm only here to learn what magic you learned to conceal yourself," Jaina said coldly... Though there had been a flinch at seeing how abused she was. Only internally, only barely loud enough for Sylvanas to hear.

Sylvanas didn’t react, just waiting by the cell door.  Folding her arms to watch. Making no comment. Just… staring intently at the snake-woman. Purging all that had just happened from her mind. This was the important thing. A threat to her people and the Horde. A mystery to solve. It was simple, and she didn’t have to feel anything to deal with it.

"Aww, you brought a living friend this time?" the naga cooed to Sylvanas, the strange resonant voice common to all naga doing strange things to Jaina's backbrain.  "Go ahead, little mage, analyse me. I could use some entertainment, my hosts have been ungracious."

"Gladly." Jaina wasn't in the mood to play. She raised a hand and power snapped out, surrounding the naga. She had to forgo ice and rely on arcane for this.

The creature writhed, trying to use her own magic to fend off the assault, but with minimal success.  Too weak, and Jaina... Jaina was just too strong.

But the strange thing was... this naga had a taste of something other than the arcane in her.  A different kind of magic in her veins, one currently occupied with battling the forsaken toxins in her blood.

Jaina’s eyes narrowed, "And just what is that?" Her eyes burst with light, trying to narrow in on the strange source of magic.

The naga writhed in pain.  "You... will never... taste our... true power, Proudmoore!  Not until... Azshara calls for you!"

The closest that she could ever recall to feeling something like this was when she'd been studying the Worgen, after the fall of Gilneas... but this was deeper.  Not just a curse. A twisted form of nature magic, but... different even from that. Unfamiliar.

Wet and salty and… something that spoke to her backbrain of rustling in the dark.

Jaina bore her teeth and lost all interest in the snake witch's wellbeing, "Your serpent queen holds no power here, naga. Now give me what I want to know!" Her gauntleted hand grasped the creature's head, thumb and pinky gripping her temples as she squeezed, physically and magically around the creature.

The naga gave a thin scream of pain, blood streaming from her eyes and gills as the magic broke her resistance.  Then her flesh warped, two of the chains falling limp, until a human woman had replaced the naga.

Not a glamour.

Shapeshifting.

The naga had learned to shapeshift.

She wrenched her hand away, the taste of sea-water in the back of her mouth almost making her gag, "Shape shifting.... They... They're shape shifting." She clenched and unclenched her fist, "A gift from Azshara...?"

"You... cannot... fathom... her power... mortal..." the transformed naga gasped.  "Not... yet..."

Sylvanas set her jaw.   _ I definitely need to visit Kalimdor.  We need to warn our people over there.  And both Horde and Alliance have most of their druids over there.  This is beyond the Forsaken's knowledge. _

Jaina nodded... And then encased the naga in a block of ice suddenly, "Finish what you need to and we'll go."

Frozen, naked and bloody, the naga looked like a strange art piece.  Not quite dead, but... she wouldn't last for long in her condition.

"I'll make arrangements,” Sylvanas said, staring at the ice block. Still trying to process the implications of how bad this could be.  “You're going to postpone your visit to Silvermoon? I'll have... the icecube readied for transport."

"I'm going there while you sort out what you need to,” Jaina replied. “I'll be back by the afternoon. I think Lor’themar will understand when I let him know what we've discovered."

Sylvanas nodded.  "We'll be ready to leave as soon as you return."  She paused, squeezed Jaina's shoulder. "Be careful.  Until we know more... who knows how deep these naga have infiltrated?"

The mage nodded, glanced at Sylvanas... But whatever vulnerable thought she was formulating, whatever hurt had been about to be shown, she abruptly crushed, "I'll return no later than mid-afternoon."

She raised her hand and opened a portal, stepping through into the palace of Silvermoon.

There was no time for… what had happened in the first cell.

There was some minor commotion in the throne room as she emerged, but all quickly relaxed.  She was expected, after all. "You're early, Lady Proudmoore," Lor'themar said brightly. "Can I offer some tea?"

"There's no time. I apologize for coming off schedule but there's been a development. Lor'Themar, I need to speak with you privately."

The blood elf glanced around, frowning a little.  Nodded, got to his feet and gestured to a side room. "What's happened?  Is Lady Sylvanas... in trouble?"

Jaina followed him inside and waited until they were alone, "No. But we've discovered a development among the naga. They've learned to shape-shift. One could appear human, and I doubt that was the limit of her abilities."

He cursed. "Shapeshift? You're certain? Not illusions or glamours? The naga have always been masters of the arcane, but... Shapeshifting?"

"I'm certain. We need to be careful. I'm here to choose the Silvermoon liaison before Sylvanas and I sail for Kalimdor. I'm going to have to vet every liaison to make sure they aren't a naga. It will be... Invasive. But shouldn't harm them."

The Regent Lord bit his lip, nodded. "Understandable. Silvermoon has been undone by betrayal from within before. Define 'invasive'?"

"I'll have to feel out their native magic, find any trace of nature magic on them." She sighed, "A druid would be better suited... But I'll manage until we find one suitable."

"I think, under the circumstances and to save time, I will simply name the best choice from the candidates. I believe you should already be familiar with Lady Liadrin. She’s been at the forefront of Silvermoon since we reclaimed our homeland, and she wouldn’t even blink at such a test." He turned to leave.

Jaina nodded, "Alright. If you're sure. I'll wait here." She used the moment alone to take a deep calming breath.

The events of the cell would  _ wait _ … But for how long?

Lor’themar returned some minutes later, accompanied by an unmistakable figure. Lady Liadrin, Matriarch of the Blood Knights, champion of Silvermoon, locked eyes with her calmly.

"Liadrin," Jaina inclined her head, "Has Lor'themar told you the reason of my visit?"

The paladin inclined her head. “He indicated there was some security concerns regarding the liaisons to your proposed council. I assume it to be an urgent one. What can I and the Blood Knights do for you, Proudmoore?”

“I need to conduct a magical test on you,” Jaina said simply. "Please don't take this personally, it's not just you, I'll be interviewing all liasons this way... Will you agree to it?"

Once she had the woman’s permission she, far more gently than with the naga, tugged on her mana, reaching out to hold her gauntleted hand over Liadrin’s forehead rather then grasping her. She searched... But found nothing, and relaxed when she pulled away.

“You’re clean.”  She pulled her hand away. “I do have some questions to ask you if you are going to be Silvermoon’s liaison, though.”

Liadrin inclined her head. “What is the security concern? If there is a threat to Silvermoon, I need to be able to act upon it.”

“Naga infiltration,” Lor’themar said with a sigh. “Apparently the Warchief’s security, along with Lady Proudmoore, managed to discover a snake that could shapeshift. Appear normal.”

Liadrin clenched an armoured fist. “I see.”

“I have limited time here,” Jaina said. “I would advise keeping this quiet, but you must use your best judgement for security. For now, Lady Liadrin - my questions?”

Reluctantly the paladin acquiesced, and Jaina got down to business. She gave the battery of questions she'd designed while interviewing those at Stormwind; a commitment to peace, a commitment to diplomacy, a commitment to their people but without the zealotry that would be willing to watch all other races burn if it meant their own survived...

There weren’t really any surprises.  Liadrin was unyielding and firm, but she had a good soul underneath that jaded warrior’s exterior. Not long ago, she had been a formidable enemy, but she was no Greymane. And she had the maturity and experience to bring some gravitas to a council. No doubt she’d be frustrating at times, but… she’d make a good representative for Silvermoon.

"I still need to gather the other liaisons,” Jaina concluded. “That may take some time. But with any luck we’ll be able to gather the full council in a couple of weeks, and I’ll call for you then.”

“Good,” Liadrin said firmly. “For now I need to work on security matters here. I think I understand what you did, at least enough to vet sensitive positions.  I should start on that right away. Safe journey, Lady Proudmoore.” She stalked off.

Lor'themar nodded grimly.  "You will keep me informed if you find anything more about these naga?"

Jaina nodded, "We will. I'm hopeful that the druids of Kalimdor will have a better way of rooting them out... Until then please, use caution." She opened a portal back to the Undercity, the throne room specifically.

Sylvanas was not there.  But one of the guards on duty saluted her.  "Lady Proudmoore," he rasped. "Lady Windrunner is on the surface, if you seek her."

"On the surface?" She glanced up out of reflex, "Is she ready to go then?"

"She is coordinating the loading of supplies and overseeing preparations for departure.  Do you wish for an escort?"

Jaina paused, "That depends on if she's simply in the area or if she's wherever your port is. I can find her myself if it's the first but the second..."

"She is in the ruins, preparing to move out," he said simply.

"I'll see myself up then, thank you." She turned, deciding to walk. She remembered the way at this point, climbing up to the elevator without much hassle.

The abominations grumbled at her like giant guard dogs.  As she reached the surface, and passed the old throne room, she saw a swell of activity, undead loading up a supply caravan, various rangers and other officers directing matters.  Sylvanas was observing some kind of sealed container be loaded up onto a cart - probably the naga ice cube.

She glanced up towards Jaina, sensing her arrival with a swell of warmth, then turned back to work.

Jaina... Didn't fight the swell of warmth but it was smaller. Nathanos still weighing on her. But… they'd speak about it later.

"Is the port very far?" She asked curiously.

"A little way.  We concealed it from prying eyes long ago.  Our naval presence has been sorely lacking since the beginning, we didn't want to risk it being targeted."  Sylvanas sighed softly. "How did it go?"

"Fine. Lor'themar’s concerned about this newest development... But his liaison made it easy to wrap up quickly. Liadrin’s a good choice."

_ Who wouldn't be concerned. _   Up close... Sylvanas was putting on a brave face.  She didn't like the revelations of the morning either. To anyone else she’d appear as impassive as ever, but...  "The human, dwarf and gnome liaisons will just have to wait for now, unless they want to go to Kalimdor as well."

The elf shook her head.  "Just once... just once it'd be nice if we could have a break without some massive upheaval.  Just for a few months."

Jaina sighed, but managed the ghost of a smile, "Maybe one day I'll take you on a real vacation. Probably to another dimension just so we don't get called in when someone sneezes wrong."

Sylvanas barked a laugh.  "We both know that we'd just be attacked by void monsters or something.  There's no escape for people like us. Incidentally, what are you going to do with your ship?"

"What do you mean?" Jaina asked.

"It's just floating out in the bay and while I know it's hardly undefended... wouldn't you rather put it somewhere more secure?"

She frowned, "You're not wrong... But it feels strange to bring it to dock at either a Horde or Alliance port right now."

"I know you're keen to make it neutral territory, but... need I remind you that the naga seem to be getting bolder and more aggressive?  At least in Stormwind or Netherhome, there'll be people watching for if you suddenly have snakes swarming over the thing."

Jaina frowned, "Netherhome... Is that what your port is called? Where is it?"

"Underground.  To the north. Not far off, actually."  Sylvanas chuckled faintly. "Funny how useful the Scourge can be sometimes for diverting attention."

Jaina tried to think exactly where her ship was, getting around the horn to the north side wouldn't be much faster than getting to Stormwind... She shook her head, it'd still take too long either way, "I'll take her to Stormwind, it's going to be just as difficult either way. It's already going to take too long for me to get back in time if I just sail it normally... And it will give me a chance to tell Anduin what's going on with the Naga."

The elf nodded.  "We'll get underway.  The Windrunner should be at sea by the time you're finished and you can teleport straight to us.  I'll show you Netherhome some other time."

She nodded, briefly touched her fingers to Sylvanas's... But turned away without anything more, opening a portal to the Proudmoore, stepping through without another word.

The ship was much as she'd left it... but something felt off, making her hackles rise.

Someone was standing at the bow of the ship.  Someone in the green armour and regalia of a Kul Tiran.

She'd summoned her staff to bear the moment she felt something was off. They weren't that close to Kul Tiras but... Could an outrunner, a frigate or something have stumbled upon the supposedly lost ship and investigated?

"Identify yourself." She called over the waves.

The figure slowly turned.

It had Jaina's face.  Angry scars along her cheek, a tricorn hat, the emblem of Lord Admiral on her chest.

She inhaled sharply, half a step back before she remembered herself and more magic then was likely necessary erupted into her palm, "A naga ploy? Next time try choosing the face of someone I love if you want to get to me!" Lances of ice erupted around her from the air, shooting towards the apparition.

The ice passed harmlessly through the figure, who stalked menacingly forward.  "You can't kill the truth," she said coldly.

Jaina's chest went cold, "You're not the truth. You're an illusion!" More magic, more ice, maybe it was a creature who could phase. Most couldn't do that for long so if she erupted spikes of ice all across the deck it couldn't ignore them. Right?

"I'm the truth of what you  _ should _ have been."  It drew a sword.  Her father's sword.  Her assault did nothing to it.  "This was his ship. This is  _ my _ ship.  You are a shadow, a weakling who stood by and watched.   _ You don't deserve this vessel. _ "

A combination of fear and rage in a mage could be deadly, not just to themselves, but to those around them. That didn't stop her  She abandoned ice and simply pulled directly on the magic, dipping into the arcane she so avoided... Dipping into her soul out of fear,  _ Banish this ill begotten nightmare! _

" _ NO! _ "

" _ STAY AWAY FROM KUL TIRAS! _ " the apparition roared, rearing up it’s sword to cut her down.

Then the torrent of power slammed into it, and it was gone.  Whether destroyed or dissipating of its own accord... was unclear.

She was left, shaking and breathing heavily. Her hand clutching over her heart. Stay away from Kul Tiras..? Why would something like that appear to her now? Like this?

Dread filled her and she looked up, around, banishing the ice across the deck, turned the ship around, heading south. Never mind that it was against the winds, she needed to get to Kul Tiras. She spared no magic to force the ship towards her homeland. As the boat's anchor raised and it began to shove through the dark waters she hurried down to the captain's office, dragging out two sheets of paper. To Anduin she wrote a quick missive.

_ Something is happening in Kul Tiras. I fear the worst. I am en route now. No matter my crimes against my people I must make sure they are safe-guarded against whatever this threat is. I'm writing this to you so you know that Sylvanas did not go back on her word or break the contract if you don't hear from me. _

_ Jaina _

To Sylvanas she wrote a different one.

_ Sylvanas, _

_ Something came aboard my ship. It wore my face but wasn't a shapeshifter or a ghost. I think the ship's proximity to Kul Tiran waters triggered it's attack. Something is happening in my homeland. I'm sorry for the sudden change in plans but I must see that Kul Tiras is safe. That my mother and brother are safe. Hopefully I will see you again. Soon. _

_ Jaina. _

First to Anduin, then to Sylvanas, she shoved the notes through their respective portals before closing them again and heading back onto deck, to the helm.

The journey to Kul Tiras wouldn't be a long one. After the days earlier darkness and that apparition’s sudden appearance Jaina was on edge.  What else might she see on this journey? What else might rattle her sanity and resolve?

But she clamped down on that abruptly. No. Nothing would waver her. She had not seen her mother in nearly twenty years, her brother in a bit more than that... But she would not let them or Kul Tiras fall. To anything.

Weak? That apperition knew nothing of strength.

There was a storm rising as the  _ Proudmoore  _ forged west, out into the ocean.  How many times had she passed by this place?  Seen it in the distance, but never gone back?

Now she would.

To what kind of welcome?

And she'd be going alone.

Not only to people that considered her traitors, but... whatever doom had overtaken them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while folks - real life things happened, and this chapter needed a lot of work. Hopefully it's been worth the wait!
> 
> In other news, I just saw the Shadowlands trailer; I don't have enough respect for Blizzard's writing ability to be excited about the expansion, but it was a cool cinematic, I'll give them that.


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